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€t)e Little Count of formant)? 

or 

C^e ^tott of Eaoul 




WORKS OF 

EVALEEN STEIN 


Gabriel and the Hour Book - - 1.00 
A Little Shepherd of Provence - 1.00 
The Little Count of Normandy 1.25 


L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 
53 Beacon Street, Boston, Mass. 
















* 
































































u c 


BEGONE, LITTLE RASCAL! ’ ” 


(See page 223 .) 


jm. 



5% lUitth (fount 
of Normaninj 

She B»tory of Eamtl 


BY 

lEtmleen g’tftw 

Author of “ A Little Shepherd of Provence,” “ Gabriel and 
the Hour Book,” etc. 

Jllluatratfii bg 3ulut (Sobb 



Si. fill. Page & ffimttpang 

Sioatmt mirrrrxi 




Copyright , igu 
By L. C. Page & Company 
(incorporated) 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, October, 1911 



Electrotyped and Printed by 
THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C H. Simonds 6* Co., Boston, U. S. A. 



©CI.A297821 


1 


TO 

ALL THE GOOD FRIENDS 

WHO MADE 


MY DREAMS COME TRUE 










Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Flying the Falcon .... i 
II. In the Hands of the Robbers . 17 

III. At the “ Saucy Castle ” . . 32 

IV. The Falcon Finds a Friend . 46 

V. On the Trail of the Robbers . 58 

VI. Count Robert Takes Some Pris - 

oners 71 

VII. Diccon Gains His Freedom . . 86 

VIII. Planning a Hiding Place . . 98 

IX. Off for Saint Michael’s Mount 113 

X. Peasant Jacques’ Troublesome 

Charge 132 

XI. The Night in the Village Inn . 148 

XII. The Journey’s End .... 162 

XIII. Saint Michael’s Mount . . 177 

XIV. The Carrier Pigeon . . . 191 

XV. Carle and the Cockle - shell . 201 

XVI. The Quicksand 216 

XVII. Pierre Tries His Plan . . . 226 

XVIII. Pierre an Eavesdropper . . 240 

XIX. The Puppet Show .... 249 

XX. The Race with the Tide . . 268 

XXI. The Return to Castle Bellaire 291 





























»• ' 


4 




























* 






* 





.1 ’ , * t .*• 



















Itfsst of 91Uusstj:atfottj8 

PAGE 

“ ‘ Begone, little rascal! ’ ” ( See page 

223) Frontispiece ✓ 

“ They were not long in attacking 

HIM ” 72 v 

“ ‘ Fly away, Fifi, . . . and carry my 

MESSAGE STRAIGHT TO BeLLAIRe! , ’ > I95 * 

“‘Oh, ho, youngster! whence came 

THESE? ’ 99 208 

“ He dragged him quickly outside the 

GROUP OF PEOPLE ” 266 ^ 

“ She noticed a horseman coming into 

VIEW AROUND A BEND IN THE ROAD ” 292 



« 








































Cfje kittle Count of Jlormautip 

ot: 

C^e ^>ton? of isaoul 

CHAPTER I 

FLYING THE FALCON 

A MID a great clattering of hoofs 
and happy shouts of childish 
laughter, two riders dashed across 
the drawbridge of the Norman castle of 
Bellaire, and cantering down the steep road 
beyond the castle moat, frisked off along 
a narrow bridle path leading across some 
open fields. 

One of the horsemen was a tall, graceful 
youth who wore the doublet of a young 
squire. On his right wrist perched a beau- 
tiful falcon, the little bells fastened to its 
1 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

feet jingling merrily and its head covered 
with a tiny hood tipped with a tassel of 
scarlet silk that bobbed to and fro with the 
lively movements of the horse. 

As the youth rode along he kept a watch- 
ful eye on his companion, a fair-haired boy 
of about ten years. The boy wore a suit of 
black mourning; and on his sleeve a silver 
embroidery of a little shield displaying a 
leopard, a turreted tower, and other heraldic 
devices, bore witness that he came of noble 
blood. 

It was less than a year since the lad’s 
father, the brave Count Raymond, had 
fallen fighting for the king, and left his 
only child, Raoul, to inherit the castle and 
bear his title. Raoul and his mother, the 
Lady Alix, had lived very quietly after the 
death of Count Raymond, whom they both 

had devotedly loved. It was many hundred 
2 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

years ago, in the reign of King Charles VI 
of France (who ruled Normandy also, 
where stood the castle of Bellaire) ; and as 
the times were troubled and lawless, making 
the roads and country oftentimes unsafe, 
poor Lady Alix, feeling her helplessness, 
had scarce allowed Raoul from out her 
sight. 

But as the months went on, and no one 
molested them, at last she began to feel that 
she had been more timid than needful; and 
though the castle grounds were large and 
beautiful, she saw that Raoul was growing 
pale and fragile for lack of more life in the 
fields and woods. And so she had not had 
the heart to refuse her consent when he had 
begged that he might go out for a morning’s 
sport with his falcon. 

“ Yes, dear heart,” she had said fondly, 

“ a canter over the meadows will do thee 
3 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


good, and bring back the colour to thy 
cheeks.” And then choosing from her 
household the young squire Sidney to go 
with the lad, she had watched them start off, 
and as she waved them good-bye from the 
end of the drawbridge, she had cautioned 
them both not to go far beyond sight of the 
castle. 

Raoul was overjoyed at the prospect of 
flying the falcon, for at that time this was the 
favourite way of hunting. While the noble 
lords were very fond of now and then cha- 
sing wild boars and deer through the forests, 
yet they thought no sport quite so fine as the 
chase of swift-winged birds through the 
sky. For this purpose they took great pains 
to train falcons for the hunt, for the falcon 
is a natural bird of prey. Every castle 
had a regular place set apart, which was 

called the “mew”; and here great num- 
4 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

bers of the birds were kept and carefully 
educated. 

When a hunter started out for his sport, 
he carried the falcon perched on his wrist; 
the bird being secured by means of a pair 
of slender leathern thongs, called “ jesses,” 
which were fastened around each of its legs 
and then looped in a small hook on the back 
of the hunter’s glove; and these jesses the 
falcon always wore. Always, too, he had 
music wherever he went, for, like the old 
lady in the nursery rhyme, if he did not have 
rings on his fingers, at least he had bells on 
his toes; for strapped above each foot by a 
narrow silken band he carried a small round 
bell that made a pretty, silvery tinkling 
whenever he moved. 

The bird’s outfit was completed by an 
odd little hood, often elaborately embroid- 
ered, and which he was obliged to wear 
5 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


over his head, quite covering his eyes, so 
that he could see nothing to distract his at- 
tention until 'it was time to loose him for 
flight. The hunter then drew off the little 
hood and slipped the jesses from out the 
hook on his glove, and away would go the 
bird, soaring in chase of whatever prey was 
in sight. 

Indeed, it was considered part of the edu- 
cation of everyone of gentle birth to know 
how to fly the falcon; and so as our two 
young horsemen rode along Raoul kept an 
eager eye on the bird on Sidney’s wrist. 

He would have very much liked to carry 
it himself, but his own wrist was too child- 
ish as yet to bear so heavy a weight. He 
was very happy, though, hearing the little 
bells jingle and watching the scarlet tassel 
bobbing above the falcon’s hood; and as 

their two ponies cantered along across the 
6 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


sunny fields, the lad’s eyes sparkled and he 
fairly shouted with delight. 

It was a bright morning in June, and over 
all the Norman meadows the dandelions 
were yellow as gold. The sky was deep 
blue, and presently as Raoul’s companion 
looked up, “ Ho! ” he exclaimed quickly to 
the boy, who was close beside him, “ dost 
thou see yonder black speck floating north- 
ward?” 

As Raoul looked, the bird, for such it 
was, sailing in graceful circles dropped 
somewhat from the clear azure height, and 
coming nearer to them, they saw the flash- 
ing white breast of a young heron. 

At this, Sidney plucked the tiny tasseled 
hood from off the falcon’s eyes, and deftly 
loosing the little leathern jesses that held 
its feet, with a shrill, encouraging cry of 
“ Haw! Haw! Ho now!” to which all 
7 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

falcons were trained to fly, he launched the 
beautiful bird into the bright sparkling air. 

Up, up the falcon soared, rising swiftly 
in great sweeping curves, ever drawing 
closer and closer to his prey. In an instant 
the heron spied him, and then began the 
excitement of the chase! 

Sidney and Raoul spurred their ponies 
and galloped along the path, now and then 
dashing out over the fresh green turf. 

“ Haw! Haw!” they shouted as the fal- 
con neared the quarry, — “Haw! Haw!” 

Just then the heron, his strength almost 
spent in his desperate flight, led his pursuer 
toward a group of tangled willows that 
skirted a dense woodland. Here hovering 
a moment above the topmost boughs, he 
poised, and then dropped; and the falcon, 
pouncing at the same instant, relentlessly 

clutched him in his talons. 

8 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

Raoul in his eagerness to see the end of 
the struggle, plied his little riding whip, 
and the pony, tossing his heels, set out at a 
run toward the thicket. 

Sidney did his best to keep up with 
him, but in a brief while the little boy 
had plunged into the wood. And then, 
in another moment, before the young 
squire could reach his side, he heard 
his name shrieked, “ Sidney ! Sidney! 
Sidney ! ” 

Thinking Raoul was only shouting from 
excitement over the falcon, he hastened 
gaily on ; but on reaching the cover of the 
trees he found to his dismay that he had en- 
tered the midst of a group of rough looking 
horsemen. There were three of them, all 
booted and spurred. They had evil faces 
and quick, stealthy motions, and one of 

them had already seized the bridle of 
9 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

Raoul’s pony while another was preparing 
to strap the boy to the saddle. 

Sidney could do nothing to help Raoul, 
for he had no weapon; yet in his despera- 
tion he struck manfully out with one fist as 
with the other he clung to the bridle of his 
pony. 

But he was at once met by one of the 
robber band who unsheathed a wicked 
looking knife with a jeering “ Ho, young- 
ster! Falconing is fine sport in sooth, but 
hunting young nobles is more to our taste 
than chasing herons, sirrah! Come on!” 
And with this, helped by one of the others 
who had already secured Raoul, they seized 
Sidney also and bound his hands and 
strapped him to the saddle. 

They had scarcely finished this when 
there came a tinkle of bells, and the men, 

startled, quickly drew the horses and their 
10 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

prisoners into the shelter of some tall 
bushes. 

But the bells belonged to nothing but the 
falcon, which presently flew from out the 
willow thicket where he had slain the 
heron. 

As the bird instinctively came toward 
them, Raoul, who had sat white and silent, 
too angry and terrified to speak, gave an in- 
voluntary cry, “ See, Sidney! Our fal- 
con! ” 

Just then the bird in trying to reach the 
young squire caught his jesses for a moment 
on the twig of a hazel bush, and one of the 
men instantly seized him exclaiming, 
“ Marry! thou art too fine a bird to leave 
dangling from a hazel twig. I trow thou 
wilt fetch a good gold noble if a farthing! ” 

Then he added, with a mocking look at 

Raoul, “ We will take thy falcon along, 
11 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

young sir, for safe keeping in case thou 
wishest to hunt with him another day! ” 

As the man placed the bird on the pom- 
mel of his saddle he clumsily fastened its 
legs to the latter by means of a piece of 
frayed lacer drawn from his doublet, and 
with his knife cut the little bells from its 
feet lest their jingling betray the where- 
abouts of the party. 

Then, spying the tasseled hood which 
Sidney had thrust into his belt, he jerked it 
out and dropped it over the head of the 
falcon, for it annoyed him by its restless 
peering about. 

This done, he grasped in one hand the 
bridle of Sidney’s pony, while one of his 
companions took charge of Raoul, and all 
started off at a brisk pace, threading their 
way deftly along a lonely path that wound 

in and out among the ancient forest trees. 

12 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


On and on they went, always keeping in the 
densest part of the forest, which was very 
large and wild. Sometimes the leaves so 
thickly overhung the path that the sunlight 
barely came through, and everything looked 
strange and unreal in the still, green gloom. 
Sometimes they heard the stealthy step of a 
wild animal in the undergrowth. 

And all the while neither Raoul nor Sid- 
ney could utter a word, even to each other; 
for they had been forbidden to speak, on 
pain of death. Though both were brave 
lads, they were greatly frightened, and 
wondered over and over what the robbers 
meant to do with them. 

Sidney suffered especially, for he not only 
feared the robbers on his own account, but 
more because of Raoul; for he was in- 
tensely grieved and mortified to think the 

boy had been taken while in his charge. 

13 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


To be sure, he was barely fifteen years old 
himself for all he bore the title of 
“ squire ” ; for in those days it was the cus- 
tom for lads of good birth to begin to serve 
as pages at seven years old, which they con- 
tinued to do for seven years; then they be- 
came squires for the same length of time, 
after which they received knighthood. 

So Sidney, proud of having lately passed 
from being a page to a squire, felt that he 
was growing up and should have been able 
to defend Raoul better. But, of course, he 
was not to blame; for even if he had been 
a grown man, without weapons he could 
have done nothing against the robber band 
that had attacked them, and that no one had 
dreamed was lurking so near the castle. 

Poor Sidney looked desperately from one 
to the other of the three ruffians, trying all 

the while to think of some plan of escape. 

14 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

But nothing seemed possible to attempt. 
The best he could do was to keep his eyes 
and ears open for any chance that might 
turn up as they rode along. For the men 
steadily kept up their march, although 
their pace had become slower because of 
the density of the forest through which 
their way led; for they had chosen, for 
greater safety, the more untravelled bridle 
paths. 

Hour after hour passed, till the afternoon 
was more than half gone. Meanwhile the 
falcon, perched on the saddle of the man 
leading Sidney’s pony, had for some time 
been shifting uneasily to and fro; till at last 
the lacer that held him broke, and, feeling 
his freedom, he darted off like a flash, be- 
fore the robber who had taken him could 
fairly wink. 

The latter looked after the flying bird 
15 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

and muttered an oath; but knowing that 
it was useless to try to recapture it, he 
worked off his feelings by giving his horse 
such a vicious cut with his whip that it 
pranced up suddenly and all but tumbled 
him off. At that he drew rein and rode on, 
looking very cross and sulky. 


16 • 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER II 

IN THE HANDS OF THE ROBBERS 

W HEN the day was far spent, and 
it was drawing toward sunset, 
the shady bridle path, through 
which the men were leading their two cap- 
tives, began to grow lighter; for the trees 
were smaller and farther apart and the edge 
of the forest was not far away. Beyond the 
forest was a wide reach of open country 
where stood the huts of a few peasant folk, 
and beyond these a little village. 

Now the robbers did not wish to take 
Raoul and Sidney, strapped as they were to 
their ponies, through this more open coun- 
try where they might meet people who 

would be suspicious of them and ask ques- 
17 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


tions. For even in those lawless times such 
a party as theirs could not pass without at- 
tracting notice. So, after talking it over 
among themselves, they decided to stay 
under cover of the forest until nightfall, 
when they would ride through the dark 
and then trust to finding some other good 
hiding place when daylight broke. 

They thought it best to stop where they 
were; and so they got off of their horses 
and leading them into a thicket of under- 
wood tied them securely. Two of the men 
dragged Raoul and Sidney from their sad- 
dles, when the third robber, who had been 
looking about, discovered the opening of 
a cavern among some rocks near by. 

“ See,” he whispered to his companions, 
“ here is a fine place to stow this pair of 
youngsters while we rest. Not so grand as 

the hall of Castle Bellaire, but better lodg- 
18 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


in g than they may find by and by.” And 
here he made a knowing grimace. 

So after seeing that the hands of their 
captives were still tightly tied, they thrust 
them into the cavern so as to be out of the 
way in case anyone came past. Then two 
of the men lay down to sleep while the 
other kept watch. They meant to take turns 
in sleeping while daylight lasted so that 
they might be wide awake for their journey 
by night. 

Raoul and Sidney, helpless because of 
the binding of their hands and their orders 
not to stir, were obliged to stay in the cavern 
where they had been placed. They were 
near its mouth and the man who watched 
while the others slept kept close guard over 
them also. 

After staring around them and being un- 
able to see anything plainly in the darkness 
19 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

of the cavern, they eagerly gazed out be- 
yond the bushes that partly hid its entrance 
and fixed their eyes on the forest, vainly 
hoping that someone might come to save 
them. But nothing did they see but the 
ever lengthening shadows of the great trees 
and now and then a ray of sunlight that 
flickered faintly between the boughs. They 
heard no sound save the rustling of the 
leaves or the snapping of a twig in the light 
summer wind; for the spot was very lonely. 

At last the two lads from sheer weariness, 
for they were unused to such long hours of 
riding, leaned back against the rocks, and, 
in spite of their fears, soon fell asleep. 

Perhaps half an hour had passed, and 
then Raoul, who was a light sleeper and 
who had been dreaming uneasily of what 
was to befall them, suddenly awakened. 

Perhaps, too, he opened his eyes because of 
20 


OR; THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the strange force that oftentimes draws our 
gaze toward someone looking at us even 
though we did not know them to be so doing. 
Thus, without knowing why, he turned his 
eyes toward the darkness that filled the 
cavern behind them and there saw two 
bright points of light that gleamed like 
little coals of fire burning through the 
shadows. As he looked, these little coals 
stealthily moved nearer; and in another in- 
stant, as a ray of late sunlight filtered into 
the opening of the cavern, he gave a sharp 
cry. For he could see that the points of 
light he had been watching were really the 
eyes of some wild animal seemingly ready 
to spring upon him. 

Now the animal was a wolf whose den 
was in the cavern, though it had been 
prowling in the forest when the party 

halted there. A short time before Raoul 
21 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


awakened, it had crept into its den through 
a small vine-covered opening in the rocks 
at the back of the cavern, and angry at find- 
ing Raoul and Sidney there, it had been 
crouching in the shadows watching its 
chance, and at last had begun to creep along 
toward them, no doubt meaning to attack 
them. 

At Raoul’s cry, however, the wolf was 
startled, and with a swift leap it rose to its 
feet and sprang through the mouth of the 
cavern, perhaps trying to escape; but on 
seeing the robber who was on guard with- 
out it turned savagely upon him and, feel- 
ing itself at bay, began to fight viciously. 

The man would surely have been killed, 
had not his two companions asleep near by 
roused up and hurried to his rescue. One 
of them seized a heavy billet of wood that 

was lying on the ground and the other his 
22 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


long knife, and with these they struck at 
the wolf till at last, after a hard tussle, they 
succeeded in killing it. 

When the struggle was over they were all 
bleeding from wounds made by the sharp 
claws of the beast, though the man on whom 
it had first sprung of course had fared the 
worst of all. He was so badly hurt that he 
was scarcely able to rise from the ground 
where he had fallen when first attacked. 
He begged his companions, whom he called 
Pierre and Gaspard, to help him; and 
though very cross and bad-tempered with 
the pain of the deep scratches they them- 
selves had received, they did their best to 
help Diccon, as the injured man was named. 

Looking about for something with which 
to bind up his wounds, as their own pockets 
held nothing, they bethought them of Sid- 
ney and Raoul. Dragging them out of the 
23 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

cavern, “ Come, young sirs,” they said 
mockingly, “ we would fain finger the qual- 
ity of castle kerchiefs and see if they be 
of noble size. Our own are too small and 
dainty to waste on this brawny ruffian!” 
And, roughly pulling the kerchiefs from the 
pockets of their two captives, they hastily 
bound them over Diccon’s wounds. 

But the wounds were many; and having 
need of more bandages, “ Ho! ” said Pierre, 
“ doublets of velvet are no doubt lined with 
blouses of linen.” At this the two between 
them forced Raoul and Sidney to take off 
their doublets and the linen blouses they 
wore beneath; these the robbers cast aside 
until their captives were again clad in their 
doublets and their hands securely bound. 
Then taking up the blouses they tore them 
into strips, one of them saying as they did 

so, “ Diccon here hath a fancy for fine 
24 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

blouses, and we would rather furnish him 
out with yours than to take off our own 
broidered linen,” and he made a wry face 
as he looked down at his own ragged doub- 
let, where his brown skin showed through 
many a rent. 

By the time Diccon’s bandages were fin- 
ished, dusk was falling; and so after letting 
him rest a little while longer, Pierre and 
Gaspard looked in the saddle-bags of the 
three horses and got out the remains of 
some bread and cheese that had been stored 
there. These they portioned out, being 
obliged to unbind the hands of their cap- 
tives long enough for them to eat. As the 
robbers handed them the coarse fare they 
made many jeering speeches to them; and 
though Raoul and Sidney sat with blazing 
eyes and did not deign to answer, they took 

the hard bread and cheese, for they were 
25 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

both so faint from hunger that they were 
glad to share even the uninviting supper of 
the robbers. 

Then his two companions helped Diccon 
to mount his horse, and again placing their 
prisoners on the ponies, Pierre and Gas- 
pard took the bridle reins of each and cau- 
tiously they set forth toward the edge of 
the forest. 

Still skirting along as far as they could 
in the deepening shadows of the outermost 
trees, they came to the wide reach of open 
country. Here they spurred their horses 
and the ponies of their captives to a brisk 
canter, as they wanted to get into another 
woodland as soon as possible; for folk on 
evil business such as theirs do not like to 
leave the covert of trees where they may 
hide in case of trouble. 

In this way they rode several miles, and 
26 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

at last in the distance they could see the 
faint twinkling of a few lights. These were 
the tallow candles of the peasants who tilled 
the soil and whose thatched huts clustered 
together formed the tiny village of Fon- 
treil. 

As they drew nearer, the two captives 
anxiously watched for any chance of help; 
but even as they looked, the lights they had 
seen were blown out and all became dark; 
for candles were something few of the poor 
peasants could afford to burn for long; — 
though indeed most of them were so weary 
with their hard day’s toil that they were 
glad to go to their straw beds as early as 
they could. Moreover the three robbers 
had no notion of risking passing through 
the village, even though everyone was in 
bed and asleep. 

They halted, however, before coming 
27 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

near enough to any of the huts for the hoof- 
beats of the horses to be heard ; and as the 
three men talked together in low tones, 
Raoul and Sidney gathered from a few 
chance words they overheard that they had 
quite a journey ahead of them and that the 
robbers wished greatly to restock their 
saddle-bags with food. At last they decided 
that the rest of the party should stand where 
they were, while Pierre went over to the 
nearest of the peasant homes to see if he 
could buy some bread. 

As Pierre looked ahead he saw that in 
one of the better of the thatched huts a faint 
light was still twinkling; and so riding 
slowly toward it, he knocked at the door, 
and when an old woman opened it, “ Ah, 
Mother,” he said, “ I am a lonely traveller 
overtaken by night and famishing with 

hunger.” And then showing her a piece of 

28 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

money, “ But I am no beggar,” he added, 
“ and I would fain buy of thee some of thy 
good loaves or of whatever else thou hast 
in store.” 

The old woman, who did not like Pierre’s 
looks, had at first listened in sour silence; 
but when she found he was not a beggar and 
had money to spend, she nodded her head 
and bidding him wait, she presently came 
out with an armful of black loaves; — for 
the peasant folk do not bake often, but try 
to keep in store as large a supply as they are 
able. The old woman brought also some 
cheese of goat’s milk and a few turnips. 

Pierre was pleased with his luck in get- 
ting these supplies, and stowing them away 
in his bags, he paid the old woman and 
rode off. To be sure he would rather have 
got the things without parting with his coin, 

but as he and his comrades had other busi- 
29 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


ness on hand with their captives they had 
no time to waste in small thefts by the way. 

As for the old peasant woman, she ha- 
stened to shut and double bar the door the 
moment Pierre turned his back; for she 
mistrusted his story and was glad to be rid 
of him. Muttering to herself, she looked 
at the coin he had given her, and hoped it 
was good, though she was by no means sure. 

Meantime, Pierre rejoined his compan- 
ions, and after boasting of the success of his 
errand, he took the young squire’s bridle 
rein from Diccon, who had been holding it 
while they waited, and again they started 
off. Leaving the highroad they made their 
way slowly around the village, sometimes 
riding over turnip fields or growing barley 
and little caring how much harm they did 
to the scanty crops of the poor country folk. 

After a while in the starlight they could 
30 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

glimpse a moving line of silver gleaming, 
not far distant, through thickets of poplar 
and willow trees; and presently their road 
wound along close to the great river Seine. 
But all was dark and quiet, and no living 
soul did they see. 

All the while Raoul and Sidney were 
growing more and more hopelessly weary 
with their long riding, and more and more 
terrified over what might be in store for 
them. By and by Raoul, quite worn out 
from the long strain, despite his pride, 
which had kept him up for hours, could no 
longer sit upright in his saddle. His head 
drooped, and he fell forward upon his 
pony’s neck. Seeing this, Gaspard, who 
held his bridle, leaned over and, lifting him 
from his saddle, placed the little boy in 
front on his own horse, grasping him tightly 
as they rode. 


31 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER III 

AT THE “ SAUCY CASTLE ” 

T O the two weary lads it seemed 
they would never come to a halt. 
On and on they went, still wind- 
ing along close to the glistening river. Af- 
ter a while the country became more hilly 
and broken and now and then, rising steeply 
above them, tall cliffs of white chalk glim- 
mered in the starlight like drifts of snow. 

Presently leaving the road, they began to 
climb one of the steepest of these, following 
a zigzag bridle path that led to the top of 
the cliff. 

Here stood a ruined castle which had 
been built long before by the brave Rich- 

ard-the-Lion-Heart, then Duke of Nor- 
32 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


mandy. He had called it the Chateau 
Gaillard, which means the “ Saucy Castle,” 
because in building it there at the edge of 
the river Seine which bounds that part of 
Normandy, he had boldly defied the French 
king, whose rule did not then extend beyond 
the river and who did not wish to have this 
castle, which was strong as a fortress, 
perched up there on its high cliff and sau- 
cily mocking his power. But it was scarcely 
finished before the bold Lion-Heart was 
slain; and when he could no longer defend 
it, the French king had captured the place 
and with it the whole of Normandy. Then, 
long after that, the proud old pile had been 
deserted and slowly fallen into ruin. And 
though that was all long, long ago, still one 
may see the gray ruins topping the white 
cliff, and still people call it the Saucy 
Castle. 


33 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

As Raoul and Sidney first saw it in the 
gray light of early dawn, for the night was 
almost gone, it looked very ghostly and for- 
lorn. One great round tower, though roof- 
less and broken, still rose above the battered 
and crumbling walls of stone. Beautiful 
little blue-bells and wild pinks had spread 
a tangled mass of bloom over these walls, 
and green mosses and silvery grasses tufted 
the forsaken fireplaces and carpeted the 
sunken flagstones of the floors. But the 
flowery clusters that thus softened the bare- 
ness of the ruin, could not be distinctly seen 
in the gray light; though the two captives 
could breathe the fragrance of the wild 
roses that filled the old moat as the little 
party wound its way along its edge toward 
the farthest angle of the castle courtyard. 
The three men who had the lads in charge 

seemed to know the spot well. Indeed, it 
34 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

was but too well known to all the robbers 
and evil-doers of the region, who made the 
ruins a hiding place. 

As Pierre and Gaspard, who were lead- 
ing the way, — for Diccon was in too much 
pain from the wounds the wolf had given 
him to care greatly as to whither they were 
going, — came to an open space opposite 
the round tower, the path suddenly led 
steeply downward and they stopped ab- 
ruptly at what seemed to be the broad, low 
opening of another cavern. 

At the sight of this Raoul, who had re- 
vived a little after Gaspard had lifted him 
to his saddle-bow, gave a shudder, and feel- 
ing it, Gaspard said teasingly, “ Thou art 
thinking mayhap ’tis another den of wolves; 
— and so, in sooth, we are like to find it.” 

At this poor Raoul turned pale and trem- 
bled violently. He did not know that the 
35 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


“ wolves ” of which Gaspard spoke were 
possible robbers they might find hiding 
there; though indeed, such would perhaps 
be almost as dangerous as the beasts of the 
forest. 

Pierre and Gaspard dismounted and tied 
their horses to a near-by tree, and with them 
Sidney’s pony still bearing its helpless rider. 

Then placing Raoul in front of Diccon, 
“ Here, comrade,” said Gaspard, “ thine 
arm is somewhat stiff, yet at least thou canst 
keep this lad from giving us the slip while 
we look for quarters in yonder stable.” 

The cavern, which was not a natural one 
like that in the forest, was hewn by hand 
from the heart of the soft chalky hillside, 
as to this day are the homes of the poorer 
people in certain parts of France where the 
chalk cliffs are found. Though no one 

knew just what had been its original use 
36 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

when the castle was first built, the cavern 
had many times served as stable for the rob- 
ber bands who later infested the country. It 
was a strange place, reaching far into the 
hill; and it is still there, its low roof up- 
held on rude pillars all cut from the chalky 
rock, and its rough walls still gray with 
moss and lichens and misty with cobwebs. 
There is a low stone seat along one side of 
the chamber, and as Pierre and Gaspard 
peered cautiously within, they saw in front 
of this the blackened embers of a fire left 
by the last wanderers who had taken shel- 
ter there. But no one was about; for luck- 
ily for them the place chanced to be empty, 
save for a few bats which clung tightly to 
the walls and an owl dozing behind a heap 
of mossy stones. 

So the pair, going back to where they had 

left the others, untied the horses and ponies 
37 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


from the trees and led them all into the 
farthermost corner of the cavern. Here 
they made them fast to a couple of the 
rough hewn pillars; and then returning to 
the courtyard, they gathered for them great 
armfuls of the tall feathery grass to serve 
in place of hay or oats, of which their sad- 
dle-bags were empty. 

As all were hungry from their long ride, 
Pierre next got out some of the food he had 
brought from Fontreil and gave a scanty 
allowance to each; looking cross enough at 
being obliged to share any with the two 
prisoners, who were almost ready to faint 
from weariness and lack of their accus- 
tomed fare. 

And for all Pierre’s boasting the night 
before, the things he had bought from the 
old woman proved far from tempting. 

The cheese was not so bad, but the turnips 
38 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

they had no way to cook, and the bread was 
so hard and dry that they could scarcely 
swallow it. Even Pierre as he choked it 
down made a wry face; — then drawing 
from his pocket a leathern cup, he filled it 
from a bottle of wine which Gaspard had 
found in one of the saddle-bags, and 
“Faugh!” he growled as he sipped a 
draught, “ my throat is parched as a bar- 
ley field in August, but I would as lief fill 
my cup from a vinegar vat! ” and pushing 
the bottle disdainfully away, “ I would 
give the price of yonder youngster for a 
flask of good Burgundy!” 

“ Hold, braggart, not so fast! ” muttered 
Gaspard crossly, “ 1 have as much share as 
thou in “ yonder youngster,” and as for the 
other young popinjay,” and he glanced back 
in the direction of Sidney, “ ’twas I and 

Diccon caught him! ” 

39 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

“And much good it will do thee!” 
snarled Pierre. “ Thou hadst much better 
take my advice and toss him over yonder 
cliff! We were well rid of the trouble- 
some baggage.” 

“Nay,” said Gaspard, “there are other 
cliffs, if need be. He hath rich kinsmen ; — 
we mean to take him along and when we 
have delivered up our prize at our journey’s 
end,” and here his glance was toward 
Raoul, “ mayhap we can find a way to those 
kinsmen’s purses. He should bring a pretty 
ransom! ” 

While this talk was going on, Raoul, who 
was too worn out to pay much attention to 
anything, had heard nothing, and Sidney 
only a few words; for they had been thrust 
far back in the cavern, and the robbers even 
in their disputes had learned to curb their 

voices, for oftentimes they were in hiding 
40 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

where loud tones would betray them. So 
though Sidney listened with all his might, 
he could learn nothing of their possible 
fate. 

By this time it was broad daylight with- 
out, and the men wishing to rest and to keep 
under safe cover, one of them plucked 
some blades of the grass that tufted the 
crumbling stones, and they drew lots as to 
which must take his turn to watch first while 
the others slept. As Gaspard drew the 
longest blade, it fell to him to place him- 
self near the entrance of the cavern and 
give the alarm if any danger threatened. 

So Pierre and Diccon, forcing their help- 
less prisoners to the farthest and darkest 
corner they could find, threw themselves 
down in front of them so as to bar any pos- 
sible attempt to escape; and very soon 

Pierre and the two lads fell into a heavy 
41 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

sleep, for they were very tired from their 
long hours in the saddle. Diccon, too, slept, 
though with restless tossings and sometimes 
an unconscious moan of pain. 

Gaspard kept watch the greater part of 
the morning and then rousing Pierre, who 
had drawn the next lot, they exchanged 
places; thus the day wore quietly on until 
midafternoon, when it came Diccon’s turn 
to stand guard. Now, Diccon was really 
not able to do this, as he was very weak 
because of the hurts he had received from 
the wolf. 

But they were all rough men used to 
wounds and hardships, and so he said noth- 
ing and his companions did not know how 
ill he felt. 

He kept his post, however, for almost an 
hour; but all the while he was growing 

more and more feverish from the effects of 
42 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the wounds, which the long jolting ride had 
not helped any. At last, parching with 
thirst, he felt that he could stand it no 
longer; — he must have a drink of water! 
If it had not been that the fever had gone 
to his head and made his thoughts wander, 
he would have known that it would be un- 
safe to leave the cavern to go in search of 
the longed-for water unless he called one 
of the others to watch in his stead. For a 
moment the idea dimly came to him that 
he must not leave the place unguarded; but 
then he paid no attention to it, for he knew, 
even in the bewilderment of fever, that 
Pierre and Gaspard would be very cross if 
he aroused them before their turns to watch. 
At any rate, he could think of nothing 
clearly save that he was burning with thirst 
and must find a drink as quickly as possible. 

Now Diccon had hidden in the castle 
43 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

ruins several times before, and he knew that 
the ancient well in the courtyard had long 
been choked up with fallen stones; and, 
when he had his wits about him, he knew, 
too, that somewhere not far off was a spring. 
But now in the confusion of his thoughts, he 
tried vainly to remember where it was; — 
till at last, looking vaguely around, some 
tufts of tall wild iris waving in the wind at 
no great distance away reminded him that 
there was the spot. 

Eagerly he crept toward it, but when he 
reached the place he found, to his great dis- 
appointment, that the spring had shrunken 
so small that only a tiny trickle of water 
filtered among the roots of the grasses. So 
little that he could not possibly dip it up. 
He laid his face to the ground, but the 
spring scarcely more than moistened his 
parching lips. 


44 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

Dizzily staggering to his feet, suddenly 
he saw the shining water of the river Seine 
flowing far down at the foot of the cliff, and 
instantly he started toward it. He did not 
wait to hunt the zigzag path by which they 
had mounted the hillside, but plunging 
down the steepest slope, sometimes tripping 
over vines or falling against the sharp rocks, 
at length, half fainting, he reached the 
river’s edge and stooping over scooped up 
the water in his hands and greedily drank 
of it. 


45 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER IV 

THE FALCON FINDS A FRIEND 

M EANTIME, while Diccon at the 
edge of the river Seine is vainly- 
trying to quench his thirst, and 
at the top of the cliff above, the others are 
asleep not knowing that no one is keeping 
guard over them, let us go back a little 
while and see what became of the falcon 
which had been captured along with Raoul 
and Sidney, but which, you remember, had 
broken away from the saddle-bow of 
Pierre; for it was he who had tried to 
fasten it with a bit of frayed lacer drawn 
from his doublet. 

For quite a while after it had darted 

away from Pierre, the falcon flew on and 
46 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

on. But though flying swiftly, he did so 
in a very aimless manner; for he was 
blinded by the little hood which Pierre had 
dropped over his head and which, when 
he broke away, of course still covered his 
eyes. 

Now and then, as his wings brushed the 
leaves of some tall tree, he would manage 
to cling a few moments to one of its boughs, 
and would shake and jerk his head to and 
fro trying in vain to get rid of the hood. 
He could not understand why it still cov- 
ered his eyes ; for always, when taken hunt- 
ing, he knew someone lifted it from his 
head before he was sent into the sky. But 
try as he might, he could not shake it off. 
Then desperately he would fly on again, 
blindly seeking to soar into the sky, but ever 
and again stopped by the thickly overhang- 
ing trees. 


47 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


Nevertheless, though flying low and un- 
certainly, as his wings were very swift he 
managed to go a long distance from the spot 
where he had broken away from Pierre’s 
saddle. 

At last, after several hours had passed, he 
reached quite another part of the forest, 
which was very large. Here as he clung, 
bewildered and helpless, to the bough of a 
tall beech tree, he heard the sound of voices 
and horses’ hoofs; and as they drew near, 
he vaguely fluttered down and without a 
struggle allowed himself to be taken by one 
of a party of horsemen. 

“How now!” exclaimed the rider, in 
surprise; “Whence comes this?” 

Then looking more closely at the little 
tasseled hood on which was worked in silk 
a tiny leopard and tower like that on 

Raoul’s sleeve, “By my faith!” he cried, 
48 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

“ I trow this bird is from the mews of some 
of thy family, Sir Count!” 

“ What sayest thou?” said the horseman 
thus addressed, and who was the noble 
Count Robert of Villharne, “ What is it? ” 
And then as he drew near the first rider, 
“ See,” said the latter, “ here is the device 
of the house of Bellaire broidered on the 
falcon’s hood! ” 

As the count closely examined the little 
hood, he looked puzzled. “ Whence came 
the bird? ” he asked. 

As the other told him of its chance find- 
ing, he knitted his brows. “ It could not 
have flown from the mews,” he said. 

“Nay,” agreed his companion, “see, ’tis 
fitted for the hunt ; — and look at this ! The 
bells are hacked from their straps as if by 
a sharp knife! ” 

“ ’Tis my opinion,” replied the count, 
49 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

“ an accident, or, more likely, some evil 
deed hath befallen someone of my kins- 
woman’s household!” — for Count Robert 
was no other than the brother of Raoul’s 
mother, the Lady Alix. 

“Ho!” he cried, raising his voice to 
summon his followers who were lagging 
somewhat behind; for the count was re- 
turning from a journey, and as the roads 
were none too safe had been obliged to take 
a body-guard with him. As the men now 
rode up, he directed them to separate, two 
going together and one with him, and to 
beat through the forest, and, if possible, dis- 
cover if anyone was in trouble. 

In this way they searched through the 
underwood for some time, now and then 
signalling to each other with the small 
bugles which Count Robert and each of his 

guard always carried when on a journey. 

50 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

But no trace could they find to account 
for the stray falcon with the cut bell-straps 
still dangling from his toes. Count Robert 
had fastened the bird, more securely than 
Pierre had done, by tying it to his saddle 
with a piece of stout cord that happened to 
be in his saddle-bag. Though indeed, the 
falcon sat very quietly, for the count had 
still left the little hood on its head, and it 
no longer had any wish to fly until its eyes 
were uncovered. 

On and on they rode; and though they 
had not as yet succeeded in finding any 
clue, both the count and the men with 
him were unwilling to give up the 
quest. 

Now it chanced that having left the bri- 
dle path, which they had been following 
through the forest on their way home, in 

order that they might search among the 
51 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


trees, all the while, without knowing it, by 
thus weaving their way through the under- 
growth they were coming by a much shorter 
cut than the path would have taken them 
toward the spot where Raoul and Sidney 
had been captured. But as they rode on 
looking quickly to right and left, it seemed 
a hopeless task to discover anyone hiding 
in that thick greenery. 

By and by, however, the man who was 
with Count Robert, and who had very sharp 
eyes, in his peering about discovered some 
little, shining objects twinkling from the 
ground in front of him. Quickly dismount- 
ing, he stooped and picked them up, and 
after looking at them, “ Ho, Sir Count!” 
he called to Count Robert, who was search- 
ing the woods near by, “ See! these are the 
silver bells which I trow our falcon here 

hath worn many a day! No doubt their 
52 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

jingling did not suit the robber who took 
him.” 

As Count Robert came near to him, be- 
tween them they held up the tiny bells, to 
which still clung the bits of the silken 
straps which Pierre had hacked in two; and 
they fitted perfectly together. “Yes,” said 
the count, “ these are plainly the bells be- 
longing to this falcon, and we must look 
carefully about this spot. Perhaps we can 
find some trace of where the robber has 
gone.” 

They examined closely the ground 
around them, and soon could see the prints 
of horses’ hoofs in the soft moss. 

“ Ah,” said the count, as he looked more 
and more troubled at this discovery, “so 
there was more than one, and on horse- 
back! ” 

As they looked again at the hoof-prints, 

53 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


they found that some of them were smaller, 
as of ponies; and then Count Robert, re- 
membering that his little nephew Raoul 
rode a pony, at once began to guess the truth 
and to fear that it was Raoul to whom harm 
had fallen. 

As the count and his guard once more ex- 
amined the undergrowth about the spot very 
carefully, they were not long in finding by 
the broken twigs, that still hung limp and 
withered on the low growing spice-bushes, 
the direction in which the horses and ponies 
had gone. 

Hereupon they blew loudly on their 
bugles to summon the other two men of the 
count’s guard, who were beating the forest 
in another direction. At first they got no 
answer, as these men were quite far away; 
but after blowing, as loudly as they could, 

a number of times, they heard the answer- 
54 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

ing signals ; and presently the other guards- 
men rode up and then the party of four 
set out together to try to follow the trail of 
the robbers. 

Sometimes they could find the way rather 
easily; but here and there, where the rob- 
bers had straggled farther apart, it was 
harder to trace them. But both Count Rob- 
ert and his men kept sharp watch constantly, 
and if now and then they wandered away 
from the trail, presently one or the other of 
them would find some clue to point them 
back. Fortunately the robbers did not have 
greatly the start of their pursuers, and so 
the marks of their path were still fresh 
enough to be found by close watching for 
them. 

Step by step the little party of riders 
picked out the way; but at last dusk over- 
took them before they reached the cavern 

55 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

where the fight with the wolf had taken 
place, and from which the robbers were 
starting away at just about the time Count 
Robert and his men decided they would 
have to camp for the night. They had 
thought to be home from their journey be- 
fore dark, and so had not expected to pass 
the night in the forest, which was by no 
means a safe place, as it sheltered many wild 
beasts. But the count had no thought of 
giving up the search for his little nephew; 
for he felt more and more sure that it was 
he who was in trouble. 

So they all made the best of the plight in 
which they found themselves; and after 
tying the horses securely to some small trees, 
the guardsmen gathered together a heap of 
dry wood and with the aid of a flint-stone 
and some tinder they had with them they 

soon had a good fire. To be sure, they did 
56 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


not need it for warmth nor had they any- 
thing to cook, for their saddle-bags held 
only bread and meat; but they wanted the 
fire to keep away any prowling wolves or 
other animals. 

Count Robert then directed the men to 
take turns in watching and keeping up the 
fire; and though a number of times they 
heard soft foot-falls creeping stealthily 
about them, the bright flames warded off 
danger and they passed the night in safety. 
Then when morning broke, as soon as it was 
light enough for them to look for the path, 
they again set out in quest of the robbers. 


57 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER V 

ON THE TRAIL OF THE ROBBERS 

I N a little while they came to the place 
where the wolf had attacked Diccon. 
Here they saw blood spattered about 
and the grass torn as from a struggle. 

“ Look! ” said one of the guardsmen, who 
was on the side of the path nearest the place, 
“ here has been a hard fight of either men 
or beasts! ” 

As Count Robert got down from his horse 
and examined the spot, his heart sank; for 
he feared some deadly harm had befallen 
Raoul. And as he looked at the marks of 
blood, more and more he determined to 
pursue the robbers relentlessly until he 
found them. 


58 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

Meantime, one of his men, who had been 
searching the undergrowth near by to find 
any possible clues, all at once called out to 
Count Robert, “ Come hither, Master! 
Here is the one slain in the struggle! ” 

And he dragged out the stiff body of the 
wolf, which, after Pierre had stabbed it 
with his knife, had crept into a thicket to 
die. 

As they all looked at the dead animal, one 
of the guardsmen noticed still clinging to 
the cruel claws of one of its paws a piece of 
brown cloth. “ Ah,” he said, as he pulled 
it loose and thrust it into his pocket, “ per- 
haps this will help us to know one of the 
men we are hunting.” For the bit of cloth 
was indeed torn from Diccon’s doublet 
when the wolf sprang upon him. 

After satisfying themselves that no other 

clues were to be found there, they hastily 
59 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


mounted their horses and set off again; for 
they thought the robbers could not be far 
away. 

When they came to the edge of the forest 
and saw across the reach of open country 
the huts of the little peasant village, they 
rightly decided that the men they were 
hunting would probably have avoided the 
village and taken a round-about way past it. 
But they had much difficulty in finding 
which way the trail led; for after leaving 
the forest, there was no undergrowth with 
broken twigs to mark the path, and the 
grass grew so short and close it was hard 
to see the trace of horses’ hoofs. 

At last they found some blood stains, 
where Diccon’s wounds had bled afresh, 
and after that it was not so hard; for by 
and by they came to the fields through 

which the robbers had gone, and here on 
60 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


the bare ground the hoof marks could be 
plainly seen. 

On and on the little party followed. 
Now and again they would all have to dis- 
mount from their horses and search long 
before they could be sure which way to go ; 
and at last, when the trail came to the foot 
of the chalky cliff on whose top stood the 
ruined Saucy Castle, they were quite unable 
to find any trace to guide them. 

Count Robert gazed up at the crumbling 
walls above them, and seeing that all was 
roofless and open to wind and rain, he did 
not think it likely anyone would try to hide 
there, as the place seemed to offer little 
chance for so doing. He had never before 
seen the old castle, and did not know of the 
underground chamber cut into the hillside. 

“ ’Tis scarcely worth our while,” he said, 

“ to climb yonder steep cliff. Our horses 
61 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


are growing weary and the afternoon is 
passing. We had best push on around the 
cliff, and search the forest beyond.” 

With this they began to pick their way 
along the edge of the river Seine that flowed 
at the foot of the cliff; and by and by Count 
Robert and one of the guardsmen, who 
were riding ahead, spied a man crouching 
at the river’s brink dipping up the water 
in his palms and drinking eagerly. 

At once they passed the word back to the 
rest of the party and all rode cautiously 
toward him; for they were suspicious of 
everyone they met, and did not want the 
man to get away until they could satisfy 
themselves whether or not he was one of 
the robbers they were seeking. As they 
drew nearer to him they saw that his arm 
and head were bandaged as if hurt; and 

Count Robert and his man, getting down 
62 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

from their horses, led them to the river’s 
edge, and while the horses were drinking 
long, cool draughts, they spoke to the man, 
who was so intent on quenching his own 
thirst that he had not before noticed them. 

“ How now! ” said the count, pointing to 
his bandages, “ Thou seemest to have met 
with hard usage somewhere. Hast thou 
fallen in with robbers or wild beasts? ” 

For as he looked at the man, the count 
was uncertain whether he might be one of 
the robbers, or perhaps an innocent person 
who had fallen in with them and been 
beaten. 

The man, however (who was none other 
than Diccon, who, you remember, had crept 
away to the river while the others slept) , as 
Count Robert spoke to him looked up 
startled, but with a blank, wandering 

glance; for the fever was still upon him, 
63 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

and he was light-headed and dazed. Not 
knowing what he said, he babbled some 
senseless words that meant nothing, and 
Count Robert grew more and more per- 
plexed. 

Meantime, the guardsman, drawing from 
his pocket the bit of cloth he had taken 
from the wolf’s claws, saw that it was pre- 
cisely the same as the torn doublet of the 
man in front of them ; — and then he no- 
ticed that the bandages the latter wore were 
of very fine linen, much finer than any of 
his other coarse garments. Seeing this, the 
guardsman spoke quietly to Count Robert, 
“ Look,” he said, “ this bit of cloth is 
plainly torn from his doublet, which is 
tattered enough, but ’twould seem he 
has chosen his bandages with a daintier 
taste.” 

Count Robert, as he listened, felt sure 
64 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

that the man was the one who had fought 
with the wolf they had found, and so more 
than likely one of the robbers ; for it seemed 
almost certain that it was they whom the 
wolf had attacked, as the marks of the strug- 
gle were right on the path they had taken. 
And as the count looked again, the fineness 
of the linen bound about the man’s arm 
added to his suspicions that he had per- 
haps made way with Raoul and used some 
of the lad’s clothing to staunch his own 
wounds. 

But though he thus half guessed the truth, 
he could learn nothing more from question- 
ing the man, whose mind was still wander- 
ing. But presently happening to glance at 
Count Robert’s horse, a gleam of remem- 
brance flashed into his eyes as he saw the 
falcon still perched on the count’s saddle- 
bow. “Ho!” he cried, pointing to it, 
65 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

“ Pierre said yonder bird would fetch 
a good rose noble! But it flew away! 
Ha! Ha!” and the man laughed fool- 
ishly. 

At this, Count Robert instantly ques- 
tioned him in a stern tone, “ What meanest 
thou, fellow? Who is Pierre? And what 
knowest thou of this bird?” 

But the man only cast a frightened look 
up toward the old ruins above them, and 
muttered to himself “No, no, — Pierre is 
sleeping. You must not wake him! Water 
— water, — I must have water!” Then 
bending to the river again, he paid no 
further attention to them. 

Count Robert, seeing nothing more was 
to be learned from him, and by this time 
quite sure that the robbers were hidden 
somewhere in the ruins above, felt that they 

must now lose no more time in reaching the 
66 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


top of the cliff which they had not thought 
worth while to attempt. 

He left one of the guardsmen to see that 
the man at the river bank did not escape, 
and then taking the others with him, they 
looked around till they found the steep zig- 
zag path leading up to the castle, and this 
they began cautiously to mount. Every 
moment they kept a sharp lookout for any 
signs of the robbers. But nothing did they 
see. 

At last they reached the top of the cliff 
and saw the ruined walls in front of them. 
Dismounting from their horses, they led 
them carefully along as they explored every 
nook and corner of the once proud old 
castle. Everything was bare and weather- 
beaten and deserted. The fireplace in the 
great banqueting hall was overgrown with 

grass ; and as they looked within the roofless 
67 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

donjon tower, they saw nothing but the 
green vines that mantled the crumbling 
stones. 

Search carefully as they might, they 
could find no trace of anyone. 

At last, discouraged, they again mounted 
their horses and were about to ride away, 
when suddenly, seemingly from the hillside 
beyond the donjon tower, they heard the 
low whinny of a horse. 

“Hark!” whispered Count Robert, and 
pausing, they all listened breathlessly; but 
heard nothing more save the sighing of the 
wind, that moaned through the old tower 
close by with a sound curiously like some 
ghostly wail. 

As they still listened, they all began to 
think it was this wind which they had mis- 
taken for the call of a horse, and were 

slowly pacing on again, when all at once 
S8 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

they heard a second time a low, distinct 
whinny. 

Now at this, Count Robert and his men 
were very much perplexed indeed. They 
felt certain this time that the sound was not 
the wind, but that a horse must be some- 
where near about. But where? There 
were dense clusters of bushes scattered over 
the hillside, but all of them were too low 
of growth to conceal a horse ; — and the 
whinny sounded quite near; indeed, it 
seemed to the listeners to come out of the 
very ground beneath their feet. 

One of the guardsmen, who was a super- 
stitious fellow, crossed himself and his eyes 
grew very round, for he thought the place 
surely was enchanted. Nevertheless he 
joined the others in a thorough search 
around them; and at last, on riding down 

a steep, slippery little path, they saw the 
69 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

opening of the dark cavern-like chamber in 
the chalky rock. 

Count Robert and his men dismounted 
here; and ordering one of them to watch at 
the entrance that no one escaped, the count 
and the other guard, after making their 
horses fast, drew their swords, and, keeping 
their wits about them, quietly entered the 
place. 


70 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER VI 

COUNT ROBERT TAKES SOME PRISONERS 

N OW up to this time, all within the 
cavern had been asleep. As they 
supposed Diccon was watching 
the entrance to the place, and as they were 
very tired, they slept heavily; — that is, all 
but Gaspard. He was not quite so sound 
asleep as the others, and as he was nearest 
the front, suddenly he awakened just as 
Count Robert and his man were coming 
toward him between the rough hewn pil- 
lars that upheld the roof of the cavern. 

For a moment he blinked his eyes in be- 
wilderment; and then realizing that he and 
Pierre were caught as in a trap, he drew his 

knife and, with an ugly scowl, waited. 

71 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


Count Robert and the man with him 
peered about them, and as soon as their eyes 
became used to the darkness of the place, 
they made out the crouching figure of Gas- 
pard. They were not long in attacking him, 
and though he fought desperately and gave 
both the count and the guardsman several 
painful cuts with his long knife, yet they 
soon overpowered him and had him at their 
mercy. 

Meantime, the other robber, Pierre, and 
Raoul and Sidney had been aroused by the 
sound of the fight. Pierre, seeing that he 
and his comrade were outnumbered, hur- 
riedly crept back, keeping in the shadows, 
and managed to reach a far corner of the 
cavern, where he crawled into a small, 
winding passage which led to a tiny hiding 
place barely large enough for him to 

squeeze into it. The entrance to this pas- 
72 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


sage was cleverly concealed behind the 
farthermost pillars, and both it and the hi- 
ding place at its end having been made by 
one of the many robbers who infested 
the region, had soon become known to 
all of them as a last refuge when hard 
pressed. 

Pierre was helped in thus hiding him- 
self, because Count Robert and his man had 
their attention taken up by the struggle 
with Gaspard, and by the fact that Raoul 
and Sidney meanwhile had begun to shout 
loudly for help. 

The two lads did not know who they were 
that had entered and were fighting with the 
robbers, for they could not see the faces of 
the new-comers. Indeed, for all they could 
tell, it might have been another band of rob- 
bers. But they thought that in any case 

matters could not be worse than they al- 
73 


THE. LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

ready were, so they cried out at the tops of 
their voices for help. 

Count Robert, on hearing them, looked 
quickly around, and calling in the other 
guardsman to help pinion Gaspard, who 
was still able to do them hurt if he could 
free himself, he hurried over to the corner 
where Raoul and Sidney lay. He was over- 
joyed to find that though it was indeed his 
nephew, as he had guessed, who had been 
captured, yet, aside from being bound and 
helpless, both the little boy and the young 
squire were unharmed. 

“ Ah, Raoul,” said the count, “ thank 
God thou art still alive! I feared much 
that yonder ruffian had slain thee! ” and he 
looked again at the two lads, hardly believ- 
ing his good fortune in finding them unhurt. 

As for the captives, they were so de- 
lighted with their rescue, that they fairly 

n 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

jumped for joy when Count Robert with 
the blade of his sword dexterously cut the 
cords that bound them. As he examined 
these cords, “Good!” he exclaimed, “the 
very things with which to tie fast yonder 
troublesome cut-throat! ” 

And at once he and the guardsmen set to 
work and securely bound Gaspard, who 
made a sour face and scowled blacker than 
before at thus finding himself helpless by 
reason of the same cords which he and his 
companions had used on their two captives. 

Having finished their task, the count 1 
looked around. “ Were there more than 
the pair of them?” he asked of the young 
squire. “ We have the mate of this villain 
safely guarded down by the brink of the 
river, and I wish none to get away.” 

“ Yes, Sir Count,” answered Sidney, 

“ there were three of them.” Here he 
75 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

looked around bewildered. “ But I do not 
see how the other one could have escaped 
without passing us!” 

Both Sidney and Raoul had been so 
eagerly watching Count Robert and his man 
in their encounter with Gaspard, that they 
had given no thought to Pierre as he crept 
off into his hiding place. 

“ Three of them? ” repeated Count Rob- 
ert, puzzled; and they all began to search 
the place again. But the back part of the 
cavern was so deeply in shadow, and the en- 
trance to the little passage so well hidden, 
that they could not find it. 

And so at last they gave up the search; 
thinking it probable that the third robber 
must have escaped by some secret way. 

They did not guess that all the while 
Pierre was crouching in his little hiding 

place, close by, and fairly quaking in his 
76 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

boots for fear he would be found out. He 
breathed a sigh of relief when he knew the 
party was leaving the cavern; though he 
was very angry at hearing Count Robert 
direct that all the horses be brought out 
along with the ponies of Raoul and Sidney; 
for, of course, they would need two of these 
for their prisoners Gaspard and Diccon. 
The other horse, which was Pierre’s, — and 
the loss of which now made him so angry 
though he did not dare to make himself 
known — the count told one of the guards- 
men to turn loose, for he did not wish to be 
bothered leading it away with them, and 
neither did he wish to leave it in the 
cavern to die for want of food and 
water. 

The horse soon galloped away, so when 
Pierre stiffly crept out of his hiding place 

after everyone had gone, he was obliged to 
77 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

go off on foot; which served him quite 
right. 

Meantime, while Pierre’s horse was gal- 
loping off, Count Robert and his party had 
all mounted. Raoul and Sidney were on 
their own ponies, and Gaspard strapped to 
one of the horses the guardsmen led; and 
in this way they started off down the zig- 
zag path to the foot of the cliff where they 
had left the other man guarding Dic- 
con. 

The latter by this time had come more to 
his senses, and had tried to get away; but 
when the guardsman chased and overtook 
him, he turned upon him, and had it not 
been that his arm was still helpless from the 
claws of the wolf, he might have made a 
good deal of trouble. 

Fortunately just at this time, the count 

and his party came up, and they soon had 
78 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

Diccon as securely fastened on the horse 
they had brought as was Gaspard on his. 

As again the party started off, Raoul and 
Sidney laughed to think that the two rob- 
bers were now in the same plight they them- 
selves had been the day before, and that as 
prisoners they were obliged to go wherever 
Count Robert chose to take them. 

By and by, when it was drawing near 
to dusk, Count Robert decided that they 
had best direct their way to the little vil- 
lage of Fontreil, which they had passed 
on the road to the ruined castle. “We will 
spend the night at the inn,” he said; and 
then turning to his little nephew Raoul, “ I 
would we might push on at once to Bellaire 
and relieve thy mother’s anxiety; for she 
must be well nigh distraught with fear as to 

what has befallen thee. But thou must have 
79 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

a good rest to-night, little one!” and the 
count leaned over and affectionately patted 
Raoul, who rode close beside him. 

“ But, Uncle Robert,” said Raoul, whose 
eyes were big with excitement, “ how, how 
did you find us? ” 

For in all that had happened after Count 
Robert discovered the cavern, no one had 
had time for many questions. Sidney, too, 
was burning with curiosity to know how 
they had tracked the robbers; and so, as 
they rode along, the count told them in 
snatches the main part of the story. He did 
not try to tell them all until they halted for 
the night; for many times the path they 
followed was so narrow that they had to 
pick their way single file. 

But when Raoul heard that it was their 
falcon which had unwittingly brought them 

help, “ Didst thou hear that, Sidney? ” he 
80 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

cried, “ ’Twas the falcon that found Uncle 
Robert! I shall always keep him, and he 
shall have some new silver bells for his 
toes, the prettiest that are made!” 

The poor falcon, though, did not seem to 
care a straw about the whole matter, but sat 
huddled up on Count Robert’s saddle-bow, 
his wings folded and his head drooping; for 
he was tired out with the long ride and the 
jogging of Count Robert’s horse. He would 
much rather have used his wings, but they 
did not dare to loose him for fear he would 
fly away and never come back again. 

Meantime the dusk had fallen, and they 
were all glad to see not far ahead of them 
the scattered lights of the little village of 
Fontreil. 

A mile or two further riding brought 
them to the one straggling street of the 

place; and a smoky lantern above a creak- 
81 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


ing sign showed them the village inn, a 
small, low building with a thatched roof. 
They rode through a wooden archway into 
a courtyard paved with cobble-stones; and 
when the inn-keeper came bustling out, he 
made many low bows to Count Robert, 
whom he knew by his dress to be a noble- 
man. 

“ Get us the best supper thou canst, and 
as quickly as may be! ” said the count, “ for 
we are well nigh famished.” 

At this, the inn-keeper hurried in and be- 
gan stirring up the embers in the kitchen 
fireplace, and into the still hot ashes he 
hastily popped a handful of big chestnuts; 
for though it was yet early in the evening, 
the inn supper was over, and as few travel- 
lers passed through the village the inn- 
keeper had little provision for late comers. 

However, he soon managed to set out on a 
82 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

rough deal table a dish of cold boiled hare, 
some black bread and cheese and the hot 
roasted chestnuts. Then fetching a jug of 
sour cider, which is the favourite village 
drink of Normandy, he summoned the 
count, who was still outside giving orders 
for the night. 

The guards had stabled the horses in a 
small thatched shed near by; and then 
carrying some bundles of straw out into the 
courtyard they prepared to pass the night 
on these, taking turns in guarding their two 
prisoners. 

When all was arranged, the count called 
Raoul and Sidney, the latter carrying the 
falcon, which he and Raoul had loosed from 
Count Robert’s saddle-bow, and they went 
into the inn and had a merry supper to- 
gether. Still keeping the cord fastened to 

the falcon’s leg, Sidney tied him to the back 
83 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


of one of the rude chairs by the table, and 
here he perched, while Raoul, laughing 
happily, plucked the little hood from off his 
head and gave him water from his own cup 
and fed him bits of hare’s meat, so that he 
fared quite as well as anybody and seemed 
to enjoy the supper as much as they. In- 
deed, they were all so hungry that they 
thought the daintiest castle feast they had 
ever tasted was not half so good as the 
homely food with which the inn-keeper 
served them. 

Nor had Count Robert forgotten the 
guardsmen and their prisoners in the court- 
yard; for before beginning their own sup- 
per, he had ordered a bountiful supply of 
the same fare to be taken out to them; so 
that no one went to bed hungry. 

When the count and his nephew and the 

young squire had finished, the inn-keeper, 
84 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

lighting a candle, showed his guests to the 
only two rooms the inn boasted. After 
their long hours in the saddle, they were all 
delighted with the sight of the high, Nor- 
mandy feather-beds; the bedsteads so tall 
and the feathers so thick that they were 
obliged to climb into them by means of 
little ladders. But once curled up atop of 
those feathers, they all sank into a dream- 
less sleep; and robbers and all were quite 
forgotten until the next morning. 


85 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER VII 

DICCON GAINS HIS FREEDOM 

TT TAKE up, lads!” called Count 
V/ V/ Robert at sunrise the next day, 

“Wake up! We have a long 
ride ahead of us, and mine host of the inn 
is at this moment playing battledoor and 
shuttlecock with the best omelette in the 
village! ” 

The inn-keeper, very red in the face, was 
indeed standing in front of the fireplace in 
the kitchen, which was also dining room 
and living room. He held in one hand a 
long-handled frying-pan in which an ome- 
lette was nicely browning; and now and 

then, to turn it, he deftly tossed it into the 
86 


OK: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

air, catching it again in the pan with the 
skill of long practice. 

Raoul and Sidney were not long in an- 
swering Count Robert’s call ; and the ome- 
lette disappeared so quickly that the inn- 
keeper had to make another one exactly like 
it before they would be satisfied. 

After all had finished their breakfast, the 
horses and ponies were got out of the shed 
and made ready for the day’s ride. At the 
count’s command, the inn-keeper emptied 
all the rest of his larder into their different 
saddle-bags, for they did not expect to reach 
Bellaire until late in the day. 

Then when all was ready, they again be- 
gan their march. The horses which carried 
the two prisoners were led, as before; the 
front guard taking charge of Gaspard while 
Diccon was placed between Count Robert 

and the second guardsman. Raoul and 
87 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

Sidney followed on their ponies with the 
third guard bringing up the rear. 

It was a lovely summer morning, and 
through the sunny fields around the village 
the scarlet poppies and blue flax-flowers 
were gayly breaking into bloom, and all 
the country looked very bright and beauti- 
ful as the little party set forth. Count Rob- 
ert was so pleased to think he had had the 
good fortune to rescue his little nephew and 
the young squire from the hands of the three 
ruffianly adventurers, and Raoul and Sid- 
ney were so glad to have escaped, that all 
were brimming over with happiness; and 
the ponies, after their night’s rest, felt so 
frisky and full of life that they fairly 
danced along the road. Even the falcon 
felt better, riding on Count Robert’s saddle- 
bow with his hood off and his bright eyes 
peering curiously around. 

88 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

The two prisoners, however, did not 
share the pleasure of the others. They were 
anything but happy. For they very well 
knew that all castles, such as Bellaire, 
whither they were bound, had somewhere 
about them dark and oftentimes terrible 
underground dungeons in which it was the 
custom to place evil-doers, such as them- 
selves, when they happened to be caught. 
So the two captives felt very wretched and 
miserable as they rode along. 

Gaspard, whose horse was led by the 
front guard, put on an air of sullen bra- 
vado. But Diccon, who was a cowardly 
fellow, as he rode between Count Robert 
and the second guard, was growing more 
and more terrified as, mile by mile, they 
drew nearer to Castle Bellaire. He kept 
furtively watching Count Robert, and by 

and by, in the desperate hope of moving 
89 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


him, he gave a deep sigh to attract his at- 
tention ; and turning his small, cunning eyes 
toward the count, presently he began to 
whine, “ O, Sir Count, my noble master will 
be most angry when he hears we be in the 
dungeon of the Castle Bellaire, and — ” 

“ Hold thy tongue! thou miserable var- 
ied” said the count, “and thou canst talk 
of thy ‘ noble master ’ to the bats of Bel- 
laire! 

“ Faugh! ” he added, scornfully, “ he 
must be noble indeed to maintain in his 
household so rascally a kidnapper as thou! ” 
“ Noble or not,” snapped Diccon, “ he is 
none the less one of thine own kinsmen, Sir 
Count!” 

This was craftily said; for, as Diccon 
expected, Count Robert, for all his wrath, 
pricked up his ears at this. “ One of mine 

own kinsmen! ” he exclaimed, “ thou lying 
90 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

caitiff! No kinsman of mine hath a follow- 
ing of cut-throats and stealers of lads! ” 

“ But, hear me! ” said Diccon; and lean- 
ing as far toward Count Robert as he could, 
strapped as he was, he repeated in a whis- 
per, “ But, hear me!” And then, looking 
cautiously about to be sure Gaspard was not 
near, he added, “ I will tell thee all, if thou 
wilt swear on thy knightly honour to let me 
go when I have finished.” 

“Now, by my faith, that I will not!” 
cried the count, who hated cowards. 

“ Nay,” said Diccon, “ but when the boy 
is at last taken, as he surely will be, thou 
mayest wish I had not held my peace.” 

At this the fiery Count Robert began to 
chafe; for he loved his little nephew and 
his gentle sister, the Lady Alix. He thought 
to himself, “ What if this villain does know 

of some plot to harm the child?” 

91 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

He rode on, however, still thinking; 
till, by and by, though sorely against his 
will, he decided to speak again to the 
man. 

“ Ho, knave! ” he said, “ if thou speakest 
truth, upon mine honour thou shalt go free; 
— but mark, I will keep thee prisoner till 
I can prove whether or not thou liest. And 
mark further, if I let thee go, and ever thou 
showest thine evil face within forty leagues 
of Castle Bellaire, I will cut off thine ears 
and hang thee for the base scoundrel thou 
art! ” 

Despite this fierce threat, Diccon was 
much relieved by the count’s speech; for 
he knew him to be an honourable and noble 
lord, and that he could rely on his word if 
he himself told the truth; and though as 
a rule little given to truth telling, he meant 

to do so in this case. For he was very sure 

92 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

that if caught in a lie, Count Robert would 
deal summarily with him. 

So, in a low tone, as they rode along, he 
told Count Robert how he and his two 
companions had been hired by the Baron 
D’Arcour to watch the castle, and, at the 
first chance they had, to seize Raoul; the 
boy was then to be taken to a certain house 
in the city of Rouen. Beyond that, Diccon 
declared he knew nothing. 

Count Robert listened attentively to his 
story, and when he mentioned the name of 
the Baron D’Arcour the count made a star- 
tled exclamation. For the baron was half- 
brother of Raoul’s father, and so the lad’s 
uncle; although neither he nor Raoul had 
ever seen one another. 

Now, the Baron D’Arcour had led a wild 
and reckless life, and for a number of years 

had roamed about France fighting in the 
93 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

quarrels of first one noble and then another. 
He had but lately returned to Normandy, 
his fortune all spent; and, as Count Rob- 
ert thought over that which Diccon had 
told him, he saw that if the latter spoke the 
truth, the baron was probably trying to gain 
possession of his little nephew, Raoul, who 
was the only heir to the beautiful castle and 
estates of Bellaire. If he once gained con- 
trol of the boy, he no doubt meant to kill or 
imprison him somewhere, and then as next 
heir seize the castle and make himself mas- 
ter of Raoul’s title and inheritance. For 
such things were not unknown in those days. 
King Charles, who ruled the country, was 
weak and ill, and many of the nobles were 
turbulent and ungovernable and did pretty 
much as they pleased, without fear of pun- 
ishment. 

The more Count Robert thought it all 
94 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

over, the more alarmed he felt for the 
safety of Raoul. And all the rest of the 
way to Castle Bellaire he was in a brown 
study trying to lay some plan for the 
future. 

Meantime, the little party reached the 
castle gate, and halting there, summoned 
the keeper of the draw-bridge to let them 
in so that they might restore Raoul and the 
young squire to their home. The old keeper 
hastened to open the gate and welcome them 
back, for affairs at Bellaire were in a state 
of sad confusion over the disappearance of 
the young master. When he and Sidney 
had failed to return at the expected time 
the morning they had gone out with the fal- 
con, Lady Alix, distracted with anxiety, had 
sent all the castle folk out to search in every 
direction. But though they had been look- 
ing day and night, they had been scattered 
95 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


about and had not been able to find any 
trace of the missing lads. 

Poor Lady Alix, whose distress had al- 
most broken her heart, was crying bitterly, 
in complete despair, and did not see the 
count and his party ride into the courtyard. 
But in another moment one of the pages 
came bounding up the castle stair, crying 
out joyfully, “ My lady! my lady! Master 
Raoul is home again! Count Robert has 
brought him! ” 

Lady Alix, scarcely believing her ears, 
sprang up at this, and hastening down the 
stair, hurried out to the courtyard; there 
finding that her boy was indeed safe, she 
hugged and kissed him again and again, 
sobbing and laughing all at the same time, 
till Count Robert, taking her by the hand, 
gently led her into the castle. And there, 

still keeping Raoul close to her side and ask- 
96 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

in g many eager questions, she learned the 
story of the three days that had passed. 

Then Count Robert, bidding them all a 
cheery good-bye, went back to the court- 
yard, and again mounting his horse, set out 
for his home, taking his two prisoners with 
him. For he had decided, instead of pla- 
cing them in the Bellaire dungeons, to take 
them on to his own castle of Villharne, 
where he could keep a close eye on them 
himself. 


97 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER VIII 

PLANNING A HIDING PLACE 

A FTER Raoul’s adventure the day 
of his falcon hunt, poor Lady Alix 
was afraid to let him stir even so 
far as the meadows beyond the castle walls, 
unless attended by a strong guard. 

Count Robert had warned her to be 
watchful of the schemes of the Baron 
D’Arcour, who, although thwarted once, 
would probably try his best to get possession 
of the boy. For the count had sent two of 
his trusty men to Rouen, and they had found 
out that Diccon had spoken the truth, and 
that it had really been at the baron’s order 
and promise of reward that they had cap- 
tured the lad. 


68 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


As day by day Lady Alix brooded over 
her little son’s danger, the more she realized 
that they could not go on living as they had 
done. She could not keep the boy always 
within their own walls; and, in truth, she 
greatly feared an attack upon the castle it- 
self. 

The baron was an inveterate fighter, and 
in those lawless times it was far from im- 
probable that he might muster a force of 
adventurers and boldly attack the castle. 
And with her few retainers (for their house- 
hold had been much reduced after the death 
of Raoul’s father) she doubted whether 
they would be able successfully to defend 
themselves. 

Meanwhile, Raoul was told nothing of 
his mother’s fears, for she did not wish to 
make the child unhappy. He knew, how- 
ever, that Count Robert had ridden to the 
99 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


castle every day for almost a week, and that 
he and Lady Alix had been shut up talking 
together for hours at a time. 

But this did not greatly trouble Raoul, 
for he was a bright, happy-hearted lad, and 
the castle enclosure was large and, like all 
such places in those days, contained many 
interesting things. The castle itself was a 
charming place for frolics; and up and 
down its great halls and long galleries 
Raoul would play hide and seek with the 
pages until sometimes, tiring of games, he 
would steal away by himself, and, clamber- 
ing up the winding stair of the old tower, 
would reach its very top; and there, lean- 
ing on the lofty parapet, he would gaze far 
away over the beautiful Norman hills and 
valleys, and long for the time when as a 
noble knight he would ride forth with ban- 
ners and music to some glorious battle-field. 

100 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

Then when the little boy wearied of these 
day-dreams, he would perhaps descend the 
staircase and wander out into the rose gar- 
den. 

This was a very beautiful one; the rose 
stalks were trimmed like little trees, their 
flat spreading tops solidly covered in those 
warm June days with a fragrant mass of 
rich pink blossoms. 

And all along the gravelled walks he 
could race and play ball to his heart’s con- 
tent; while in the midst of the garden a 
silvery fountain tinkled all day long and in 
its basin of mossy stones bright gold fishes 
swam about and glittered through the green 
water. 

Beyond the rose garden were the falcon 
mews whither he went many times a day to 
watch the care and training of the young 

birds; while in the centre of the grass plot 
101 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


near by, there stood a carved wooden pole 
and on top of it the most wonderful pigeon 
house. It had turrets and gables and quaint 
little doors and windows, and looked for all 
the world like a toy chateau. And when 
the pigeons gathered about it, flashing their 
white wings and preening their rainbow 
feathers in the sunlight, Raoul thought 
there was no prettier sight in all the castle 
grounds. 

Indeed, in those days the dove-cote was a 
very important part of every noble estab- 
lishment; for as there was then no regular 
post for letters and no telegraph, carrier 
pigeons were very much depended upon. 

When the lord of a castle went away on a 
long journey he very often took with him 
a basket of pigeons from the home cote; 
and no matter how far distant his way led 

him, if he wished greatly to send word home 
102 


OR; THE STORY OF RAOUL 

he had but to fasten a slip of written paper 
somewhere about one of his pigeons and 
then loose the bird, certain that, if no harm 
befell it, it would find its way back and de- 
liver the message to his lady or followers. 
For always while the lord of the castle was 
away, the dove-cote would be searched 
every morning to see if any wanderer had 
flown thither in the night. 

Raoul had his own particular pets among 
the pigeons of Bellaire; and they were so 
tame that they would come and eat from 
out his hands and perch upon his head or 
shoulders quite as unafraid as on the gables 
of their own little house. 

Then, too, across the courtyard, there was 
the armory, which the lad liked best of all 
to visit; for here the old armorer busied 
himself hour after hour polishing the hel- 
mets and shields and swords that had seen 
103 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


service under Raoul’s father, but that were 
seldom used now. Sometimes he would let 
Raoul help him at his work, explaining to 
him the use of the different things and tell- 
ing him brave stories of the days of his dead 
father. 

Next to the armory were the great stone 
stables where the horses lived; and here, 
also, was a favourite place for the boy to 
loiter. Though fewer in number than when 
Count Raymond lived, yet the horses were 
beautiful and high spirited, and always 
neighed when Raoul came in sight; for he 
often brought them red apples, or bits of 
barley sugar, which they especially liked. 
In one of the long, low rooms of the stables 
were kept the trappings for them; for 
when a horse went forth bearing his noble 
master to battle or tournament, he too was 

always arrayed in armour, and over this he 
104 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

wore besides the gayest of harness and em- 
broidered saddle-cloths. 

Raoul used often to think how grand it 
would be to ride on a horse thus decked out 
instead of his little pony, and he had long 
ago picked out the trappings he meant to 
use when he set out on his first adventure 
as a knight. 

And yet though there were innumerable 
things within the castle grounds to amuse 
and entertain him all day long, and though 
part of his time went to his lessons with 
Father Augustine, who had been chaplain 
of the castle for many years and of whom 
Raoul was very fond, — nevertheless he 
wearied with the confinement of it all, and 
often deeply longed for the freedom of the 
fields and woods. 

At last, one day as he was playing in the 
garden, Lady Alix came out of the 
105 


rose 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

castle and walking slowly along the grav- 
elled path, presently seated herself on a 
carved stone bench and beckoned Raoul to 
join her. 

As the boy came and sat down beside her, 
she put her arm about him and drew him 
close to her side as she pressed a long kiss 
upon his soft fair hair. They sat a little 
while in silence; and then Lady Alix said, 
“ Child, thou art weary with being shut 
within these castle walls ; how wouldst 
thou like to go away for a while, — till 
thou art older and stronger? ” 

At this Raoul looked up with bright eyes 
and a quick smile of delight. “ Ah,” he 
cried, with childish pleasure at the thought 
of new things, “ that I would, most dearly! 
But whither will we go, Mother? ” 

As Lady Alix did not at once reply, he 

looked closer at her face and saw that her 
106 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

eyes were full of tears; and it was with 
an effort she answered him as she put 
both arms about him and hugged him to 
her. 

“ Alas, dear one,” she said, “ thou hast 
been my sweetheart for ten years; but thou 
art a man-child, and since thy dear father is 
gone, thou needest to be taught many things 
that thou canst not learn here. Thou know- 
est most noble lads of thine age, even though 
their fathers live, yet are they sent out as 
pages in the households of other nobles, 
where they may be taught all knightly 
things.” 

Indeed, this was the custom in feudal 
times; the little sons of the lords of the land 
received their education, such as it was, in 
the castle of some friend rather than under 
their own roof. Perhaps for the reason 

that it was thought they would thus be 
107 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


brought up more strictly than they might 
if indulged in their own homes. 

As Raoul listened, the smile faded from 
his face; for he loved his mother dearly, 
and if the change she had suggested meant 
to part from her, he no longer felt any 
pleasure in the thought. 

At last he said, very simply and with a 
brave effort to be manly, “ Must I go, 
Mother? ” 

“ Yes, dear,” answered Lady Alix, “ I 
am afraid I have already kept thee with me 
longer than I ought; — but I could not bear 
to send thee away. And, Raoul, there are 
other reasons, too, why it is best for thee to 
go away for a time; reasons which thou 
shalt learn by and by, when thou art some- 
what older. I can only tell thee now that 
thine Uncle Robert and I have planned to 
send thee to a stronghold where thou canst 
108 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

stay in safety for a few years, until thou 
shalt grow into thy strength.” 

Raoul was listening in deep attention; 
though he had never been told the real 
reason back of his capture on the day of the 
falcon hunt, he now vaguely guessed that 
for some cause his mother feared that he 
might again be taken from her. 

Lady Alix then explained to the little boy 
how he was to be sent to the great Abbey- 
fortress of Saint Michael’s Mount, which 
is a steep, island rock off the coast of Nor- 
mandy, and of which I will tell you more 
by and by. 

As Raoul’s mother and his Uncle Robert 
greatly feared the persistence of the Baron 
D’Arcour, by whose men they knew the cas- 
tle was constantly watched, they had taken 
much pains to plan some way by which 

Raoul might make the journey to Saint 
109 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

Michael in such secrecy that no one but 
their own trusty serving-folk would know 
where he had taken refuge. 

And this was the plan they had hit upon : 
the following week peasant Jacques Choi- 
nard, one of the tenants on the domain of 
Castle Bellaire, was to come thither in a cart 
and was to bring with him his little son 
Carle, who was nearly the same age as 
Raoul. 

Then Carle was to stay at the castle 
where he was to be trained for service, while 
Raoul was to be dressed in some of Carle’s 
homespun clothes and wooden shoes and a 
cap like Carle’s, and then peasant Jacques 
was to take him in the cart to the village 
of Pontorson, and thence to the island of 
Saint Michael’s Mount, a few miles beyond. 
Lady Alix and Count Robert thought that 

if Raoul were thus disguised, in case he 
110 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

were seen by Baron D’Arcour’s men, who 
watched all who came and went from 
the castle, they would not suppose but 
that he was the same little Carle Choi- 
nard who had come there with his 
father. 

When his mother had finished explain- 
ing this plan, Raoul’s face wore an expres- 
sion of rebellious dismay. He did not at all 
fancy the idea of leaving his home in dis- 
guise. He was high-spirited and coura- 
geous, and it seemed to him humiliating to 
go away as if he were in hiding for some 
wrong act. 

But when Lady Alix showed him the im- 
portance of his reaching Saint Michael’s 
Mount in secrecy, and when she seemed 
distressed at his unwillingness to carry out 
their plan, he kissed her and declared that 

rather than make her unhappy he would 
111 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

cheerfully pretend he was Carle or anyone 
else she might wish. 

And then, the more they talked it over, 
the more interested he grew; till at last it 
seemed that the trip to Saint Michael’s 
Mount in the role of a peasant boy would 
really be quite an agreeable little masquer- 
ade. 


112 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER IX 

OFF FOR SAINT MICHAEL’S MOUNT 

A WEEK after Lady Alix had told 
Raoul of their plans, he happened 
to be down in the courtyard when, 
about the middle of the morning, in through 
the gateway came a shaggy Normandy 
horse, and clattering at his heels a high cart 
painted blue and with broad, heavy wheels. 
Around the neck of the horse was a wooden 
collar, and on top of it rose a little arch of 
wood in which hung a small bell which 
tinkled gaily as the horse stepped across the 
paving stones. 

Raoul, however, noticed nothing but the 
people in the cart; these were a sturdy 

peasant wearing a suit of homespun with a 
113 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


blue blouse and a broad hat, and by his side 
a little boy dressed much like his father. 

As the cart stopped in the middle of the 
courtyard, the little boy gazed wonderingly 
around; for he had never before been 
within castle walls. And then, when they 
had climbed down to the ground, he made 
an awkward little bow as Lady Alix came 
toward them; for she had been expecting 
and watching for them. She greeted them 
kindly, and as Raoul came up, “ My son,” 
she said, “ this is little Carle, of whom I told 
thee.” 

Then as Lady Alix bade peasant Jacques 
come with her into the castle where she 
might talk with him, Raoul directed Carle 
to the stables, where he was to put the horse 
and cart. 

As Raoul watched the peasant boy patter 

across the courtyard in his wooden shoes, he 
114 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


wondered how he himself would be able to 
manage such strange foot-wear for the next 
two days. And when Carle came back 
from the stables and stood bashfully looking 
up at the pigeon house, Raoul greatly as- 
tonished him by suddenly asking to try on 
his shoes. 

Carle, who knew nothing of the plan of 
Lady Alix, looked at Raoul’s fine velvet 
shoes and could not understand why his 
young lord should wish to put on wooden 
ones; and, thinking he was being laughed 
at, his face turned very red as he obediently 
stooped down and drew off his sabots. But 
when he saw Raoul’s earnest attempts to 
put them on and his awkward efforts to 
walk in them, he laughed merrily and 
showed him as best he could how to manage 
them. After several tumbles Raoul con- 
trived to walk tolerably well, and really 
115 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

began to take quite an interest in the dis- 
guise he was to wear. 

Presently, after a few more trials of his 
skill in walking, he sat down to rest, and 
taking off the sabots looked curiously at 
them. 

Then noticing that Carle, who was stand- 
ing by in his bare feet, was gazing with 
equal curiosity at the pointed velvet shoes 
which were lying on the grass beside him, 
“ Carle,” said Raoul, “ I have tried thy 
sabots, how wouldst thou like to put on my 
velvet shoes? ” 

At this, Carle looked very embarrassed; 
he really wanted very much to try on the 
fine foot-wear of his young master, but he 
was too shy to do so. So he only shook his 
head. But when Raoul insisted, he finally 
squeezed on one of the shoes, and then 

sat looking at it with such an expres- 
116 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

sion of awe that Raoul burst out laugh- 
ing. 

“ How dost thou like them? ” he asked. 

“ Oh,” said Carle, drawing a long breath 
of admiration, “ do you wear them every 
day, or is this your fete-day? ” 

“ Why, I wear them every day,” said 
Raoul. “ Wouldst thou like to have 
them?” 

Carle blushed and looked so amazed at 
the offer, that Raoul laughed again, and 
called to him a page who had been loitering 
about the castle doorway. “ Henri,” said 
Raoul, as the page came up, “ I wish thou 
wouldst run upstairs and bring me my new 
velvet shoes; I am going to give this pair 
here to Carle.” 

The page looked surprised at this, but he 
was used to his young master’s impulsive 

ways and, anyhow, it was his business to 
117 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


obey Raoul ; so, disappearing into the 
castle, presently he came back bringing the 
new shoes, which Raoul put on. As he 
handed the sabots back to Carle, it was on 
the tip of his tongue to say that as he him- 
self was to take a pair of these the next day 
and be a peasant boy for a while, turn about 
was fair play, and Carle should have the 
velvet shoes he so admired. But just in 
the nick of time he remembered that his 
mother had specially warned him to say 
nothing to Carle or anyone else about 
their plan for his disguise, as she wished 
nobody save those who must to know of 
it. 

So Raoul contented himself with saying, 
“ Keep the velvet shoes, Carle. Thou canst 
wear them for sport some day just as I have 
played with thy sabots.” 

Carle was delighted with his gift, and 
118 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

managed to stammer out an embarrassed 
“ Thank you, sir.” 

The shoes were really too small for his 
brown feet and he had to tug hard to get 
them on; and, to be sure, they looked en- 
tirely out of place with his blouse of coarse 
blue homespun. Nevertheless, Carle was 
absurdly pleased with them and fairly 
bursting with pride to own them. 

He felt their softness and admired them 
to his heart’s content, thinking with delight 
of how he would wear them on great days, 
perhaps Sundays or the fete-day of some 
saint; for such times were the only ones 
when the peasant folk had any merriment. 
Indeed, Carle considered his gift so fine 
that presently, still delightedly stroking 
them, he went off to hunt the brown wicker 
basket in which he had brought his few 

clothes, — for he was to stay at the castle — 
119 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


and in this he safely stowed away the pre- 
cious shoes. 

Meantime, Raoul had gone into the cas- 
tle, and the rest of the day was spent in ar- 
ranging the details of the journey and in 
finishing the packing of his belongings. 

The next morning, before sunrise, peas- 
ant Jacques brought his horse and cart out 
into the courtyard; and when a little boy, 
dressed in blue homespun and wearing sa- 
bots, clambered up to the seat beside him, 
if any of the castle folk had seen them (but 
then, except Lady Alix, none of the castle 
folk, not even the pages, were blinking yet, 
but were all sound asleep) they would 
never have guessed but that it was little 
Carle going off with his father. 

As they passed through the gate, the 

sleepy porter, as he grumblingly let down 
120 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the draw-bridge, paid little heed to them; 
only noticing that it was the same peasant 
and cart which he had let in the day be- 
fore. 

As peasant Jacques roused the big Nor- 
mandy horse to a trot and they jogged along 
the open road, Lady Alix, who had climbed 
to the top of the highest castle tower to 
keep sight of her boy as long as possible, 
quite broke down and cried as if her heart 
would break. 

Raoul, too, felt very sad and unhappy at 
leaving his home. But there were so many 
things along the road to divert his thoughts 
that he could not for long brood over his 
unhappiness as did poor Lady Alix left 
alone in her quiet castle. 

On either side, along the way, were rows 
of tall poplar trees; and beneath them tufts 

of blue periwinkle and purple phlox were 
121 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

just opening for the white butterflies that 
hovered about in shining swarms. 

Sometimes they passed gray farm-houses 
with roofs of thatch and apple and pear 
trees clustered close around, and perhaps a 
blaze of scarlet poppies in the fields beyond. 
Now and then, as other high, two-wheeled 
carts went trundling by, their drivers would 
call out a pleasant “ Good morning! ” To 
which peasant Jacques always replied in 
friendly manner, though he really knew 
none of the passers by, as Lady Alix had 
chosen him for the journey especially be- 
cause his home lay in that part of her estate 
most remote from Saint Michael’s Mount; 
for she thought that if he had not to pass 
through his own region he would be 
troubled with fewer questions about Raoul. 

As they jogged along the little boy asked 

about many things, which peasant Jacques 
122 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

answered as best he could; and, after a 
while, when Raoul wanted to know how 
far they were going, he said that they would 
journey all that day and as far the next day 
before they reached Pontorson, the village 
by the sea coast nearest Saint Michael’s 
Mount, which, you remember, is an island. 

This seemed to both of them quite a 
journey, as in those days, when there were 
no railroads, it took a long time to travel 
even fifty or sixty miles. 

After a while they reached a little village 
of thatched cottages; here the houses stood 
close to the road, and children played and 
women were spinning out of doors. 

A little farther on, in an open space be- 
fore the church, there were a number of 
two-wheeled blue carts like the one in which 
Raoul was perched, for it was market day. 

Opposite, the church rose, beautiful in its 
123 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

lace-like carvings of stone; while the sun- 
light streamed through the wonderful 
painted windows and out again upon the 
stone flagging in front till it gleamed like 
a mosaic of jewels. 

Here peasant Jacques stopped for a few 
minutes, and climbing down from the cart 
.went over to some of the market folks to ask 
directions about the road. Left alone, 
Raoul looked around with interest; for he 
had never been far from Bellaire, and so 
everything was new to him. 

Presently along came a little girl leading 
a goat by a cord; her father, a little way 
ahead, was busy selling some vegetables, 
after which he meant to try and sell the goat 
also, which meantime the little girl was 
tending so that it might not stray away. 

As she passed peasant Jacques’ cart, 

Raoul called down a friendly “ Good day! ” 
124 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

“Good day!” said the little girl; and 
then, pausing a moment, “ Do you come 
often to market? ” 

“Nay,” answered Raoul, “ ’tis my first 
time.” 

“ Oh! ” said the little girl in surprise, “ I 
have been a great many times. I always 
carry the basket of eggs to sell, — and I am 
very careful not to break them,” she added 
with a little air of pride. 

Just then a faint sound came from a 
brown wicker basket under the seat in the 
blue cart, and noticing it, “ What is that? ” 
asked the little girl, coming nearer. 

“ Why,” answered Raoul, “ those are my 
pigeons.” For, unknown to anyone at Bel- 
laire, before starting away he had happened 
to think how lonely he would be, off in the 
strange Abbey without any pets; so he had 

chosen three of his favourites from the castle 
125 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


dove-cote and had brought them along in 
the wicker basket. He had brought also a 
small bag of grain to feed them on the way. 
The pigeons had been dozing most of the 
time since they had set out, but had just 
roused up and were beginning to coo plain- 
tively at finding themselves shut in so small 
a space. 

Raoul raised a little crack in the lid and 
spoke to them. Then turning to the little 
girl, “ Would you like to have a peep at 
them? ” he asked. 

“ Oh yes! ” she said, and standing on tip- 
toe, looked in as Raoul held the basket 
toward her. 

“ How pretty they are!” she exclaimed. 
“ May I touch them? ” 

“ Yes,” said Raoul, “ they are very 
tame.” 

So slipping the cord, that held the goat, 
126 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

into one hand (she had been grasping it 
tightly with both), with the other she tim- 
idly reached into the basket and softly 
stroked the shining feathered heads within. 
But at that moment the goat, which had 
been tugging impatiently at the cord, gave 
an extra hard pull, jerking it loose from the 
chubby palm that held it, and away he went 
frisking off down the road. 

The little girl gave a cry of dismay, and 
started after it; while Raoul, seeing her 
distress, sprang from the cart and tried to 
run along to help. 

But he quite forgot the wooden shoes he 
wore, and, after a wild plunge or two, fell 
sprawling in the street. When he tried to 
rise, for all his lesson from Carle the day 
before, the sabots were still so much in his 
way that he could not get to his feet, but 

over he tumbled again, rolling about and 
127 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

by this time laughing heartily at his own 
plight. 

At this, the market folks near by began 
to notice with surprise the little peasant 
boy who could not manage his wooden 
shoes and to speak of him curiously. 

But, fortunately, at this point, peasant 
Jacques caught sight of him, and in great 
alarm hurried up, and dragging Raoul to 
his feet, got him back as quickly as possible 
and placed him in the cart. Indeed, peasant 
Jacques was so much frightened over the 
notice the lad had attracted that he did not 
stop for anything else, but made haste to 
drive away from the village as soon as he 
could. 

When they were well out in the country 
again, he begged Raoul that, the next time 
they stopped, he would keep quietly in the 

cart and avoid the notice of anyone. Poor 
128 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


peasant Jacques was beginning to feel that 
he had a much more difficult task than he 
had bargained for; and he heartily wished 
that the lad by his side was really little Carle 
whom he could command to do his bidding. 
For all his peasant blouse and wooden shoes, 
he could not forget that Raoul was his 
young master and therefore not to be treated 
disrespectfully. It was very hard, espe- 
cially as, despite his entreaties, Raoul only 
poked out his feet and laughed again as he 
looked at the clumsy shoes that had come 
so near to betraying him. 

After this, peasant Jacques, who was not 
nearly so dull as he looked, began to inquire 
about the less travelled ways; and, leaving 
the highroad, he drove along quiet lanes, 
sometimes through woods and fields, though 
always going toward the sea-shore. In this 

way they met almost no one, and so Raoul 
129 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

was much less care to him. Indeed, so 
lonely were the ways they travelled that 
when night overtook them they found 
themselves in a green woodland far from 
any village. The loneliness of the spot 
might have made it a dangerous place for 
anyone to pass the night if he carried gold- 
pieces in his pocket, for there were many 
robbers through the country; yet peasant 
Jacques knew that poor folks like himself 
(and with his blue blouse and sabots, no one 
would have known that Raoul was other 
than a peasant, too,) need fear no disturb- 
ance. And so he was very well satisfied as 
he made ready to camp for the night. 

Lady Alix had seen to it that stowed away 
in the cart was a generous basket of bread 
and cheese and pasties of meat and little 
knick-knacks that Raoul liked. So they 

supped very finely sitting on a grassy bank 
130 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

by the roadside, and a little stream near by 
furnished them a cool drink and water in 
which to bathe their dusty faces. 

Then Raoul attended to his pigeons, 
while peasant Jacques unharnessed Jacco, 
the horse, and fed him with some hay they 
had brought along. 

When all was done, peasant Jacques 
stretched out on the soft green grass close 
by, and the little boy curled up in the cart 
on the hay that was left; and never in all 
his life had he had a sweeter sleep than that 
night under the bright stars of June. 


131 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER X 

PEASANT JACQUES’ TROUBLESOME CHARGE 

S OON after daybreak the next morn- 
ing they again set out on their jour- 
ney. Peasant Jacques still chose the 
little travelled roads and quiet lanes where 
the dew twinkled brightly in grass-grown 
tracks. Now and again, as they drove 
along, brown hares would scurry across the 
way and then pause in the shelter of the tall 
hedge-rows and peer out at them, with 
bright eyes and long ears pricked up 
straight. Two or three times they passed 
through sleepy villages; and once a gayly 
mounted party of noble folk swept by them 
on their way to a hunt, with horns blowing 

and silken garments and bright feathers 

132 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

fluttering in the wind. But to peasant 
Jacques’ great relief, no one spoke to them 
or asked them any questions. 

And all the while the birds sang so 
sweetly and the country looked so beautiful, 
that the second day passed very quickly; 
and it was quite dark when they drew near 
the little village of Pontorson, where they 
were to spend the night. This had been the 
plan of Lady Alix, who had not realized 
how hard it would be to keep Raoul from 
being noticed in spite of his disguise. 

Peasant Jacques, after his experience 
with his young charge in the first village 
where they had stopped, had been much 
perplexed all day as to whether strictly to 
obey the commands of Lady Alix, which of 
course he wished to do if possible, or to act 
as he thought safer and not try to enter Pon- 
torson, but again to camp in some quiet 
133 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


place and pass the night beneath the 
stars. 

But as the dusk fell, the matter was set- 
tled by a bank of heavy clouds, that had lain 
low on the horizon all day, beginning to 
float up and threaten a down-pour of rain. 

Now, peasant Jacques, had he had sturdy 
Carle with him instead of his young master, 
would not have minded the rain in the least. 
He would have taken Carle and crept un- 
der the shelter of the cart, and let the falling 
drops beat in on them if it so chanced. But 
with Raoul in his care, it was different. 
The lad was of delicate build and not over- 
strong; and as peasant Jacques looked at 
him with troubled eyes, he decided he must 
not risk a wetting lest the child fall ill. 

It probably would not have hurt Raoul, 
but, of course, peasant Jacques felt respon- 
sible for him and did not wish to take the 
134 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

chances of having him pass the night out of 
doors. So he directed Jacco toward Pon- 
torson. 

As they entered the village and drove 
along the one roughly paved street of the 
place, here and there a candle twinkled 
from some open window; and very soon 
they saw a flickering lantern which partly 
lighted up a swinging wooden sign on 
which was painted a strange looking animal 
in bright blue. 

Raoul, who had never before been to an 
inn, except the one at Fontreil, was much in- 
terested. “ Is that an inn? ” he asked. 

“Yes,” answered peasant Jacques, “that 
is the inn of the 1 Blue Lion,’ where we are 
going to stop to-night.” 

Raoul was greatly amused at the queer 
looking lion on the sign, and remembering 

that the one at Fontreil had borne a hedge- 
135 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

hog painted green, he asked peasant Jacques 
if all inns had queer animals for signs. 

But Jacques did not know; neither could 
he tell why a bough of green mistletoe was 
fastened beside the inn door. He only 
knew that every inn of which he had ever 
heard did the same. And, indeed, to this 
day, though the Blue Lion has long since 
passed away, still one may see a cluster of 
green mistletoe hanging by the door of 
every Pontorson inn; for so the old custom 
has been handed down for centuries. 

But peasant Jacques did not allow Raoul 
much time for looking at the outside of the 
inn, for he was anxious to get under shelter 
ahead of the rain. So urging on Jacco, 
in another moment they clattered along 
through a stone arched gateway and entered 
a paved courtyard. 

At this, the landlord, who had heard 
136 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

them drive in, came bustling out. But when 
he saw his new guests were only a peasant 
and a little boy, he did not waste any of his 
fine bows upon them; but with a friendly 
nod to Jacques, called out “ Welcome, 
travellers! Thou canst stable thy horse in 
the stall across the yard.” 

So peasant Jacques drove over to a long 
shed with a row of stalls and, getting out of 
the cart, unharnessed Jacco and pulled 
down some hay for him from a rack on the 
wall. 

While he was busy with this, Raoul, hear- 
ing his pigeons cooing hungrily, lifted the 
cover of their basket and sprinkled in a few 
handfuls of grain which he had brought in 
a little bag. Then drawing from the same 
bag a beautiful silver drinking cup that be- 
longed to himself and that he had tucked 

in with the grain, he looked around the 
137 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


courtyard to find some water for his pets. 
Soon spying an old-fashioned well, he went 
over to it and began tugging at its heavy 
windlass. 

As he was working at it, two maids be- 
longing to the inn, who were gossiping 
near by, noticed the silver cup which Raoul 
had set on the curb of the well. 

“ Oh ho! ” said one of them, “ how comes 
it thou hast silver to drink from, like a 
young lord? ” 

“Yes,” echoed the other, suspiciously, 
“ boys such as thou had best be content with 
pewter mugs, like the rest of us!” 

Raoul turned around in surprise, and 
“ Pewter is for peasants!” he said haught- 
ily. As he was about to say more, up came 
peasant Jacques, and seeing the dispute and 
the rich looking cup, which he did not know 

Raoul had brought, he was again dread- 
138 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

fully frightened for fear the boy’s disguise 
would be found out and he himself would 
be blamed by Lady Alix. 

But Lady Alix would not have blamed 
him without good reason; for she had spe- 
cially chosen him to conduct Raoul because 
she knew him to be quicker of wit and with 
more presence of mind than most of the 
peasant folk. 

So now, gathering his wits together, 
“ Carle,” he said roughly, “ put up thy cup, 
else we be taken for thieves.” Then turn- 
ing to the maids, “ He is an honest lad, and 
’tis his own cup. My lord that died gave it 
to him; for he and the young master are 
playfellows and the young master sets great 
store by my little Carle.” 

Raoul opened his eyes wide at this speech, 
which, though it sounded to him decidedly 

mixed up, was yet entirely true, all but the 
139 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


calling of himself “Carle;” for the cup 
had indeed been given to him by his dead 
father, and it was also true that he played 
with himself a great deal and that he liked 
Carle. And it was thus hearing the little 
peasant boy’s name that reminded him of 
his disguise, which he had for a moment 
forgotten. So he said no more, but with a 
smile of amusement handed the cup to 
peasant Jacques, who took it and placed it 
for safe keeping in the loose front of his 
own blouse. 

The maids turned away, only half satis- 
fied and still eying Raoul curiously; and 
as they walked off shaking their heads, he 
heard them saying to each other “ A likely 
story, indeed!” 

Poor peasant Jacques, wondering what 
Raoul would do next, hurried him away 

from the well ; and when he took him into 
140 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the inn for the night he thanked his lucky 
stars that he had managed to travel as much 
of the way as he had without meeting peo- 
ple; and he devoutly wished his trouble- 
some charge was safely off his hands. 

Jacques would have wished still more 
ardently to be safely through the journey, 
had he known that the kitchen maids were 
not the only ones who had noticed the silver 
cup. A rough looking man, who had been 
loitering in the shadows of the courtyard, 
had seen it also; and when Jacques took 
Raoul into the inn, he slowly followed, 
seeming not to be watching the two, but all 
the while keeping a close eye on them. 

In the great kitchen in which they found 
themselves, was a party of pilgrims bound 
for the Mount. Some had their knapsacks 
open in front of them and were eating the 

last remnants of the food they had brought 
141 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

with them on the journey, while the inn- 
keeper was supplying the wants of others. 
But though it was yet early in the evening, 
the most of the pilgrims, many of whom had 
come a long distance and were very weary, 
were already finding themselves places to 
sleep on the floor and the long wooden 
benches that ran around the wall. Peasant 
Jacques chose for Raoul an empty bench 
which he found in one corner, and stretched 
himself on the floor in front of it. He 
would much rather have taken the boy to a 
room where they might be alone, but did 
not dare to ask for one for fear that the inn- 
keeper and the others would be suspicious 
of Raoul’s disguise. For in those days, it 
was only nobles or folk of some means who 
had beds to themselves when they went on 
journeys. Travellers of the poorer class 

were obliged to find such comfort as they 
142 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

could in the shelter of the kitchen, which 
was general living room as well. 

But even though they thus had to mingle 
with the others, peasant Jacques was thank- 
ful they were under a good thatched roof; 
for the wind had risen and a summer storm 
was sending down its first pattering drops. 

He was very tired and sleepy as he lay on 
the floor, and he hoped Raoul would soon 
fall asleep, too; for as long as the lad was 
awake he was continually afraid he might 
say or do something to betray them. 

But Raoul was by no means ready for 
sleep. With bright, wide-open eyes, he sat 
up very straight, watching everything that 
went on. He looked at the pilgrims, with 
much curiosity. “ See,” he said to Jacques, 
“ they are eating hard black bread, like the 
robbers had and like they gave us at the inn 

in Fontreil ! ” Until the journey with the 
143 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

robbers, Raoul had never before tasted 
black bread, which was the daily fare of 
the peasant folk. 

“O young sir, hush!” begged Jacques 
under his breath to the little boy; he was 
all in a tremor, for he knew that if over- 
heard, the pilgrims would stare at the sup- 
posed peasant boy to whom black bread was 
a strange food. “ Oh, please be quiet,” he 
implored, “ for if you talk so they will find 
out you are no peasant, and we may be 
watched, and Lady Alix’s plan will be 
spoiled and she will be angry with me!” 

As poor peasant Jacques sat up and drew 
closer to the lad, Raoul, seeing how worried 
he looked, nodded his head and tried to re- 
member that he was to say nothing. But he 
was a bright, impulsive boy, interested in all 
about him, and before long he forgot him- 
self again. He was looking this time at a 
144 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

group of women in the pilgrim party; they 
wore dark dresses with white kerchiefs over 
their shoulders, and on their heads wonder- 
ful tall white caps with wide fluted ruffles 
that flared back from their faces. 

“ Oh,” exclaimed Raoul to peasant 
Jacques, “ those caps are not at all like the 
serving-women wear in the castle, and once 
one of our pages told me that he could tell 
from what part of Normandy peasant folk 
come just by the different kinds of caps the 
women wear. Now where dost thou sup- 
pose yonder people live?” 

Again peasant Jacques, in despair, plead 
with his young charge to be careful, and 
above all to keep quiet. He looked anx- 
iously around to see if anyone had over- 
heard Raoul’s speech, and to his great relief 
decided that no one had noticed them. He 

did not know that the rough looking man, 
145 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


who had followed them in and was seated 
near them seemingly absorbed in re-arrang- 
ing the things in his knapsack, had heard 
the last part of Raoul’s chatter. At the 
words “ one of our pages,” he had pricked 
up his ears; “ Ah,” he said to himself, “ so 
thou hast pages in thy household, and 
drinkest from silver! A rare ‘peasant’ 
indeed! Perhaps, too, though thy guardian 
has thy cup in safe keeping, something else 
of value may be tucked away under that 
make-believe costume of thine! ” 

He kept his thoughts to himself, however; 
and presently, yawning, he lay down on the 
floor not far distant from the corner Jacques 
had chosen, and arranging his knapsack for 
a pillow, he was soon snoring loudly. 

Meantime Raoul was feeling the effects 
of being out of doors all day, and was grow- 
ing sleepy. He began to lose interest in the 
146 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

doings of the people around him, and, 
stretching himself out on the bench, for a 
little while, blinking drowsily, he watched 
the firelight flickering over the faces about 
him; and then, by and by, his eyes closed 
and he was in the land of dreams. 

Peasant Jacques, whose anxiety had kept 
him wide awake, as he saw Raoul’s even 
breathing and knew that he slept, gave a 
sigh of relief as he shut his own eyes. 

In a little while, all the pilgrims having 
arranged themselves for the night, the tal- 
low candles that had partly lighted the room 
were blown out and all became quiet. 


147 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER XI 

THE NIGHT IN THE VILLAGE INN 

A LL went well in the inn kitchen, 
until about midnight; and then the 
rough looking man, who had been 
pretending to snore as he lay on the floor 
near Raoul and Jacques, turned over, and, 
stealthily rising to his hands and knees, be- 
gan to creep toward them. 

Peasant Jacques, sleeping soundly, did 
not know that some one very, very softly 
thrust a hand within his blouse and drew 
out Raoul’s silver cup. The man next rose 
to his feet, and carefully stepping over 
peasant Jacques, leant above Raoul, evi- 
dently considering. He thought if the lad 

were sound enough asleep, perhaps he could 
148 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


carry him outside the inn and there force 
him to be quiet while he searched to find if 
he had any money or anything of value hid- 
den beneath his blouse. 

But the man had not realized that Raoul 
was a light sleeper, and easily awakened. 
So no sooner had he bent over him, than the 
lad’s eyes suddenly flew open. 

The room was quite dark, save for the 
flickering embers of the great kitchen fire- 
place where a billet of wood still smoul- 
dered from the supper time. But though 
Raoul could only vaguely see that a man 
was bending over him, yet as he was a sen- 
sitive child, he felt at once that it was not 
peasant Jacques but some one with evil in- 
tent. He uttered a quick, startled cry, and 
sat bolt upright on his bench. 

The man drew back, and at the same mo- 
ment peasant Jacques, rousing up, caught 
149 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


at his foot, so tripping him over, and the 
man pitched heavily to the floor, the silver 
cup dropping from his hands as he fell. 
Peasant Jacques, seeing the gleam of it as 
it rolled near the fireplace, with a quick 
movement snatched it up and hid it again 
in his blouse; he was about to cry 
“ Thieves! ” when he very wisely remem- 
bered that it was best not to attract any 
notice to themselves, and so he held his 
tongue. 

But in another moment the room was in 
a hubbub. The pilgrims who had been 
asleep on the floor were rousing up and 
asking in a bewildered way what was the 
matter. And what was peasant Jacques’ 
astonishment, when the man, scrambling to 
his feet, cried out “ Thieves! I have been 
robbed by yonder peasant churl, who has 

already stolen a silver cup and no doubt the 
150 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


lad with him, who is no peasant, for all his 
blue blouse and wooden shoes!” 

When peasant Jacques heard this speech, 
he was terrified; but as we have seen be- 
fore, Lady Alix had made a wise choice in 
selecting Raoul’s guardian for the journey; 
and again Jacques’ nimbleness of wit and 
clear judgment served them in good 
stead. 

He now instantly seized Raoul, who, for 
all his recklessness, seemed also to realize 
the importance of being quiet; and while 
everyone was still confused with the sudden 
excitement and before anyone had managed 
to find a candle to light, he quickly reached 
the door, and, slipping back the heavy bolt, 
stepped out and hurriedly picked his way 
across the courtyard, making his plans as 
he went. 

He remembered the thatched shed where 
151 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

he had left Jacco, and quietly creeping into 
it he felt along the wall till he found the 
stout rack in which the hay was kept; for, 
being a peasant, he knew just where to look 
for such things. He next thrust Raoul into 
it, and then climbing in himself, he 
crouched down and pulled the hay loosely 
in front of them so as to hide them. 

Fortunately, all the while the rain, which 
had begun to fall early in the evening, was 
still coming stormily down; and peasant 
Jacques, though he had not wanted it be- 
fore, was now thankful enough as he heard 
it; for he knew it would make the inn 
people less apt to search thoroughly for 
them. 

And sure enough, after they had got one 
or two candles lighted and looked about a 
little and had all examined their belongings 

and found nothing missing, the pilgrims, 
152 


/ 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

who were still weary and wanted to finish 
their sleep, were not greatly interested in 
what became of Jacques and Raoul; and 
the real thief, meantime, had quietly slipped 
out and made his escape. 

The inn-keeper, who felt that he must 
make some show of protecting his guests, 
took a lantern and searched the courtyard; 
but the rain soon drenched him, and as he 
saw no traces of anyone, he went back into 
the house and bolted the door with a great 
deal of blustering. And by and by every- 
thing was quiet again; for in those days 
people were used to all kinds of lawlessness, 
and felt lucky if nothing befell themselves ; 
and they did not greatly trouble to go out 
of their way to capture evil doers for the 
public good. 

Meanwhile, Jacques, crouching there in 

the hay with Raoul, knew that they must 
153 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


get away before daybreak; and he won- 
dered if he could safely manage it. 

He waited till all had been dark and 
quiet for some time in the inn. Then slip- 
ping from the rack, he hurriedly found 
Jacco’s harness and deftly buckled it in 
place; and then he took some wisps of hay 
and twisted them around the two heavy 
wheels of the cart so as to try to deaden the 
sound of its clatter over the stones of the 
courtyard. The hay did not stay on very 
well, but it helped some; and luckily the 
shed was near the arched entrance which 
led to the street. 

Jacques felt his way to this, and unbarred 
the broad wooden gate and set it wide open. 

Then remembering that Jacco’s iron 
shoes might make a noise on the paving 
stones, he carried some armfuls of straw 

from the floor of the shed and strewed it 
154 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

along, as well as he could in the dark, so as 
to make a little path on which Jacco could 
walk. He thought of fastening some hay 
over Jacco’s shoes also, but could not as he 
had nothing with which to bind it on. 
However, Jacques had really managed 
things very well ; and when all was ready, 
he told Raoul to climb into the cart. 

Then, taking Jacco’s bridle, he carefully 
led him along, and as his eyes by this time 
had grown used to the dark, he succeeded 
in guiding the cart squarely through the 
gateway; and then mounting himself to the 
seat beside Raoul, he urged Jacco to a brisk 
trot until they had left the inn well behind 
them. 

Jacques was anxious to reach the sea- 
shore, which was only a few miles away, by 
early dawn, so that he might find someone 

to guide them across to the Mount before 
155 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


the coming of the party of pilgrims, who 
would recognize them, and, thinking them 
thieves, would of course make trouble for 
them. For though the other travellers at 
the inn had not bothered themselves to 
search for them that night, peasant Jacques 
knew they would be eager enough to take 
the supposed thieves should they happen to 
fall in their way. So he drove steadily on; 
and though the rain was still falling in fit- 
ful showers, both Jacques and Raoul were 
so glad to have got away that they did not 
mind the wetting. 

The man who had caused the trouble at 
the inn was really only a common thief who 
wanted the silver cup or whatever else he 
might be able to steal, and knew nothing 
about Raoul except that he suspected the 
lad wore a disguise. But Jacques of course 

thought he was trying to get possession of 
156 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


Raoul as the robbers had done the day of 
the falcon hunt, of which Lady Alix had 
told him ; — and Raoul thought so, too ; 
and though he knew nothing of the real 
reason why they had tried to capture him, 
he had too lively a recollection of the time 
spent in their hands to want to repeat the 
experience. So he was as anxious as peasant 
Jacques to reach the safe shelter of the 
Mount without anything else befalling 
them. 

After a while the rain ceased; and be- 
fore long a light dawn wind sprang up, 
drying their garments and chasing away the 
last wracks of cloud; and soon they could 
see a few pale stars and the little white 
moon glimmering down the west; for it 
was almost time for the early summer day- 
break. 

Presently, as the sky grew lighter and 
157 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

lighter, a low sweet twittering began to 
steal through the air; and in another mo- 
ment all the birds were wide awake; and 
from all the tall poplar trees along the road- 
side came the cheeping and chirping of the 
nestlings and the joyous rippling songs of 
robins and wrens, of thrushes and meadow- 
larks, so lovely that Raoul, with glistening 
eyes, fairly held his breath to listen, and 
even peasant Jacques forgot his cares for a 
moment as he lifted his head and drank in 
that happy music. 

And then a wonderful rose coloured glow 
crept up the eastern sky, and in a burst of 
radiant golden glory the morning broke. 

Still sparkling with raindrops, the coun- 
try looked especially beautiful in the bright 
early sunbeams. From many young locust 
trees there swept down gusts of honey-sweet 

fragrance, and on the hedge-rows of soft 
158 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

green tamarisks that bordered the way, 
sprays of feathery pink bloom swayed to 
and fro like fairy wands. Between these 
they could glimpse fields of barley, and 
sometimes the silvery sheen of growing 
oats. 

Then by and by, the green fields ended 
and they came to the little river Couesnon, 
and saw, beyond, a great expanse of gray 
sand. Tufting it for quite a way were 
clumps of bronze-coloured grasses; and 
here and there flocks of sheep were brows- 
ing, the sunlight glinting through their 
fleeces and making them shine like spun 
silver. 

A rude wooden bridge crossed the river, 
and as Jacco slowly trod over it, Raoul, 
looking out toward the west, suddenly 
opened his eyes wide with wonder and a 

long, marvelling “Oh!” broke from his 
159 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


lips, and peasant Jacques reined in Jacco 
and gazed too. 

It was their first glimpse of Saint Mi- 
chael’s Mount, whither they were bound. 

A pearly morning mist lay over the dis- 
tant sands, looking like a soft white cloud; 
and shimmering above, faintly seen through 
gold and violet vapours that trailed airily 
about it, the Mount seemed to float and 
hover in the sky like some heavenly vision. 

The steep rocky isle, its sharp edges 
softened by the misty distance, tapered 
gradually to its summit crowned by the an- 
cient Abbey, which carried on the marvel- 
lously picturesque lines, lifting them up and 
up, till at last they ended in the beautiful 
spire of the Abbey church. The figure of 
the great archangel, for whom the rock and 
the Abbey were named, tipped this spire, 

poising aloft with outspread wings; and 
160 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

though neither Raoul nor Jacques could 
make it out clearly, they saw a bright spar- 
kle of light glittering like a star where the 
sunbeams touched those hovering angelic 
wings. 

It was all so lovely, that neither spoke as 
they gazed and gazed; and it was only 
when Jacco, becoming restless, began to 
trudge on, that they roused from their 
dreams and peasant Jacques remembered 
that his first care must be to find someone 
to guide them toward the Mount. For he 
had been carefully told and knew that the 
way thither, beautiful as it looked in the 
glamour of early morning, was none the less 
beset with many dangerous quicksands. 




161 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER XII 

THE JOURNEY’S END 

P EASANT JACQUES reined in 
Jacco, and standing up and shading 
his eyes with his hand, he looked 
about. Not far away an old fisherman was 
stooping over a pile of nets which he was 
mending, and when Jacques called him 
over and showed him a piece of money — 
which Lady Alix had given him for this 
purpose — he agreed to guide them safely 
across the sands. As he led the way, care- 
fully selecting his steps, peasant Jacques 
followed on foot, leading Jacco by the 
bridle. 

Raoul, still perched on the high seat of 

the cart, looked eagerly around. It was 
162 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

not at all such a place as he had expected 
to find. Everyone had called Saint Mi- 
chael’s Mount an island; but he saw no 
shining waves around it, as he had supposed 
would be there. So, standing up in the cart, 
he leaned over, and “ Where is the sea? I 
want to see the water!” he demanded of 
their guide. 

“Not so fast, little one!” answered the 
fisherman, “ I would first fain be safe on 
yonder Mount. The tide is out now, but 
soon enough thou shalt see the salt waters 
rushing over these sands swifter than run- 
ning horses!” 

Raoul looked incredulous at this; he 
strained his eyes toward the horizon, but 
nowhere could he see a sign of the ocean. 
On all sides, instead of its tumbling waves, 
spread a great reach of wet earth and sand, 

dotted with tiny pools gleaming in the 
163 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

morning light, and bright trickling streams 
that seemed to begin and end nowhere. 

Near by, the little river Couesnon flowed 
lazily along, presently losing itself in the 
gray sand; and, scattered about every- 
where, were small, fluted shells, glistening 
white, and clusters of curious sea-weeds, 
brown and green and rose-colour; and 
sprawling among them were great, flat 
jelly-fishes looking like disks of pale 
amber. 

It was a strange region, neither land nor 
sea. But that was because the tide was out. 
By and by, when the time came for it to 
rise, all the sand through which Jacco was 
tugging the blue cart would be overswept 
by a great flood of salt water. Rushing, 
tumbling, foaming into white spray, it 
would beat against the rocky sides of the 

Mount, and, surging over the sands, carry 
164 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


away any luckless travellers found in its 
path. 

Indeed, nowhere on the coast of France 
does the tide rush in with such resistless 
force; and pilgrims to the Mount had al- 
ways to be most careful to choose a time 
when the ocean was sleeping and the sands 
were bare. And even then the way was 
perilous because of the many quicksands 
into which, if one incautiously set foot, he 
was in danger of sinking forever. And so, 
for this reason, pilgrims usually went in 
parties and followed the lead of some trusty 
fisherman who knew the safe paths. 

Before long, peasant Jacques, walking 
behind their guide and following closely in 
his footsteps, had led Jacco almost to the 
foot of the Mount. It was a steep, rocky 
hill; around its base, protecting it from the 

daily surging of the ocean and also from the 
165 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

attack of any foes, — for the Abbey was 
very rich and powerful, — ran a strong wall 
of stone with battlements and watch-towers. 
Above the wall might be seen the quaint, 
peaked roofs of the village of Saint Mi- 
chael. It had but one street, steep and 
crooked; and, on either side, the brown 
houses were piled one above another in the 
oddest places, wherever the rocks gave room 
enough to build. 

And then, last of all, towering above the 
village and on the very top of the rocky 
Mount, rose the wonderful Abbey, lifting 
its picturesque walls and towers and pinna- 
cles high against the Norman sky and seem- 
ing to have sprung from out the living rock 
itself. 

Indeed, it looked so strong, so great and 
massive, that to Raoul, as he gazed thus at 

closer range, it seemed that it rhust have 
166 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


been built by giants, and he could hardly 
believe that those lofty gray walls were a 
part of the airy vision he had seen from the 
little bridge over the Couesnon; a vision 
seemingly so fragile and unreal, that he had 
thought the Mount was the work of some 
great enchanter from fairy-land. 

He rubbed his eyes, and looked again; 
but there it stood, solid and strong. And 
some day perhaps you, too, may see it; for 
though broken and worn by the passing of 
almost a thousand years, the Norman Ab- 
bey of Saint Michael’s Mount is still one of 
the most truly beautiful buildings in all the 
world, and many of the famous artists and 
builders of to-day still make the pilgrimage 
thither solely to study the wonderful work 
of that old time brotherhood. 

And the Abbey was old even in Raoul’s 

time; for more than six hundred years be- 
167 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

fore that, a certain good bishop of Nor- 
mandy had had a dream, so legend says, and 
in his dream the archangel Michael had 
commanded him to build on the summit 
of the rocky Mount an Abbey; that is, a 
church and a monastery where a brother- 
hood of monks might live. 

So the bishop began the work; and, toil- 
ing at it through all his life, slowly it had 
grown in size and beauty. It was named, 
for the archangel, the Abbey of Saint 
Michael; and in the centuries after the 
good bishop who began it, gradually more 
and more parts were added to it until it 
became a vast pile. There was a house for 
the abbot who ruled the brotherhood, there 
were cells for all the monks, a lovely clois- 
ter for them to walk in, a lofty dining room, 
places for writing and painting parchment 

books, and splendid great halls where visit- 
168 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

ors might be received and entertained. 
And the visitors were many; for the Abbey 
contained a holy shrine which soon became 
so famous that hosts of people made pil- 
grimages there. They came from all over 
France; and oftentimes among them were 
powerful kings and princes who gave rich 
gifts to the Abbey, so that all the while it 
grew more wonderful and beautiful. And 
the wise part of it all was that instead of 
smoothing down and levelling the great 
rocks that made the heart of the isle, the 
artist builders built around and on top of 
them, fitting their plans to the rugged out- 
lines of the Mount, till, year after year, 
the living rock seemed to grow into beau- 
tiful lines and noble shapes. From the 
great, solid pillars of the lowest crypts, ri- 
sing in lofty walls and towers, up, up, to the 

slender, delicately carved columns of the 
169 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

cloister, and soaring at last into the wonder- 
ful church and the topmost pinnacle of its 
graceful spire, the whole Abbey seemed a 
part of the very Mount itself. 

Raoul, gazing at it with absorbed inter- 
est, almost forgot to climb down when at 
length the cart stopped just outside the 
great wall, and peasant Jacques made fast 
Jacco’s bridle to an iron ring set in one of 
the stones. Then, loading himself with the 
two large baskets in which were packed 
Raoul’s belongings, and giving to the little 
boy the smaller basket where his pigeons 
were stowed, he paid their fisherman guide 
with a piece of the money Lady Alix had 
provided, and taking Raoul by the hand led 
him up a steep, rocky stair and through the 
arched gateway that guarded the little vil- 
lage of Saint Michael. 

It was a strange street in which they 
170 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

found themselves; very narrow, paved with 
square stones, and with old brown houses 
crowding close on either side, it wound up 
the side of the rocky hill and at last ended 
in a flight of stone steps that led to the top 
of the great wall surrounding the Mount 
on three sides. 

Raoul and peasant Jacques trudged 
slowly along, now and then stopping to 
glance within some open doorway or up 
some odd bypath. In many of the old 
houses were tiny shops where pilgrims 
might buy little keepsakes to carry away 
with them; rosaries of brown seeds, pottery 
and baskets made by the peasant folk, and 
all manner of trinkets fashioned from 
cockle-shells like those little, fluted ones 
strewn over the outer sands so thickly that 
the cockle-shell had become known as the 

emblem of the Mount and the Abbey coat 
171 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


of arms showed, as it still does, a shield cov- 
ered with these little white shells. 

Raoul was eager to look at all these 
things, but peasant Jacques being anxious 
to reach their journey’s end, begged him not 
to linger too long by the way. So steadily 
following the crooked street, at last they 
reached a landing on the parapet of the 
wall that guarded the Mount, and here they 
both had to stop a little while to catch their 
breath; for it had been a steep climb and 
a still steeper one was ahead of them. 

“ Oh,” said Raoul, “ now I can see the 
ocean! ” 

And, sure enough, as he stood on tip-toe 
and looked over the parapet, far off in the 
distance gleamed the bright edge of the sea 
which would by and by sweep in over the 
sands. Up above them rose the lofty walls 

of the Abbey, and Raoul could see the 
172 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

entrance door defended by two round 
towers. 

When presently they started on, they 
climbed up more flights of steps and steep 
paths, till at last they came to the great door 
guarded by men in armour. When the 
guardsmen saw them to be only a harmless 
peasant and a little boy, they were allowed 
to pass without questions, and were taken 
into a large reception hall. 

Then peasant Jacques, setting down his 
basket, felt carefully within his blouse and 
brought out a slip of parchment which 
Lady Alix had given him. This he handed 
to one of the brothers who had come to 
meet them. He read the writing, and then 
turning to Raoul said kindly, “ So this is 
the lad from Bellaire. We have expected 
thee, Raoul, and hope thou wilt be happy 

up here in this rocky nest.” 

173 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


Then he took charge of the baskets which 
peasant Jacques had set down, and the lat- 
ter, bidding good-bye to the little boy, made 
his way to the shrine of Saint Michael, and 
soon after started on his homeward journey, 
much relieved to have gotten his charge 
safely off his hands. 

As soon as Jacques had taken his leave, 
the young monk bade Raoul follow him, 
and after leading him through a number of 
vaulted rooms and winding passages, at 
length they reached a sort of dormitory 
where there were several beds. “ Here,-’ 
said the monk, “ is where thou art to sleep; 
this bed next to mine is for thee, and here 
is a shelf where thou canst keep thy things.” 

As Raoul looked curiously around, the 
monk arranged the baskets, and then re- 
membering the lad’s long journey, he said 
with a smile, “ Come, child, the noon meal 
174 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


must be ready by now, and thou must be 
very hungry.” 

Descending a winding stair, they entered 
a beautiful, wide hall which the brother- 
hood used for a dining room. It was 
lighted by narrow, pointed windows filled 
with delicately coloured glass through 
which the sunbeams fell softly. At one side 
was a gracefully carved little reading desk 
reached by a small spiral stair, all of white 
stone, and here one of the monks stood and 
read aloud while the others ate. 

Raoul was given a seat on the long bench 
on which the brothers sat. As he looked 
about, he saw that there were several who 
did not wear the brown robe and hood of 
the brotherhood; for there were usually a 
number of persons staying at the Abbey for 
'different reasons. Sometimes there would 

be boys who had been sent to the place, per- 
175 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


haps to be trained for the brotherhood, or 
for some other cause; though when Raoul 
came it happened that no others so young 
as himself were there. 

But Brother Benedict, the monk who had 
him in charge, was happy-hearted and boy- 
ish spirited, and, by the time that first din- 
ner was over, the lad from Bellaire already 
felt quite at home. 


176 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER XIII 

SAINT MICHAEL’S MOUNT 

R AOUL soon grew very fond of his 
life there at Saint Michael; it was 
so novel and different from any- 
thing he had ever before known. 

The Abbey itself was a marvellous place 
to him, and he would wander for hours 
through its vast halls and great vaulted 
chambers. 

One part of the buildings, which rose 
from the northern face of the rocky isle, was 
so wonderful that when it was finished peo- 
ple called it the “ Marvel ; ” and to this day 
the name still clings to it. In the Marvel 
is the noble hall known as the “ Hall of the 

Chevaliers,” because in it the abbots were 
177 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


accustomed to receive their noble and 
kingly guests. Though to-day this hall is 
bare and desolate and the last embers have 
vanished from its huge, hooded fireplaces, 
when Raoul saw it its walls were hung with 
rich tapestries and on its stone floor were 
carpets of violet velvet sown with stars of 
gold; while at one side, on a dais covered 
with crimson, stood the abbot’s chair of 
state carved with such fairy-like skill that 
when the little boy first looked at it he 
thought that the canopy which rose over it 
was made of fine brown lace, till he came 
nearer and saw that it was all of wood. 

Raoul delighted in wandering through 
this Hall of the Chevaliers and admiring 
its princely splendour; but the place he 
loved best of all was the beautiful cloister 
which was built on the roof directly over 

the hall, from which it was reached by a 
178 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

winding stone stair. This cloister, where 
the brotherhood used to walk and meditate, 
was one of the loveliest parts of the whole 
Abbey. Indeed, nowhere in the world is 
there another one just like it; for nowhere 
else is there a cloister so lifted aloft between 
the earth and sky, and nowhere else are 
there more exquisite carvings than on the 
clusters of slender pillars bounding its ar- 
caded walks. The square open space in its 
centre the monks had filled in with earth so 
they might plant it with grass and flowers; 
and as of course they could not have trees 
there, perhaps it was to make up for the 
lack of these that they lavished their utmost 
skill in fashioning the miraculously lovely 
carvings of the stone pillars around it. 

Here to-day may still be seen such wealth 
of fruits and foliage, of roses and lilies and 

all manner of beautiful blossoming boughs, 
179 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


all wreathed and intertwined with such in- 
credible grace and delicacy of touch, that it 
does not seem possible that the whole is 
wrought from solid stone! It is no wonder 
that when it first shone forth fresh from the 
carvers’ hands, people thought it so lovely 
that, just as they had christened the whole 
range of buildings the “ Marvel,” so they 
called this cloister “ The Palace of the 
Angels.” And by and by, long before 
Raoul’s time, the legend had come to be 
handed down that sometimes, at midnight, 
the white wings of angels really had been 
seen hovering over this lovely cloister, and 
that more than once they had even come 
down and walked within it. 

People declared, too, that at times a 
strange light had been seen within the great 
church close by, while ghostly figures flitted 

about and angel voices could be heard softly 
180 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

singing. The peasant folk said further that 
on no account must anyone venture to pass 
the night within the church or cloister; for 
some dreadful misfortune would surely 
overtake the person who tried to spy upon 
the angels if they chanced to come thither. 
So firmly did everyone believe this, that 
none of the monks who lived in the Abbey, 
nor any of the village folk, would have 
thought of such a thing as passing a night 
in the forbidden bounds. 

These old tales, which the brothers from 
time to time told Raoul, fascinated him 
much; and then the cloister was so pleasant, 
too; high in the air as it was, there was al- 
ways blowing through it a fresh salt breeze 
from the sea, and the little boy liked to lin- 
ger in its grassy courtyard by day, or to 
wander in the early moonlight up and down 

its long, arcaded aisles. There he would 
181 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


dream all manner of dreams; for he was 
sensitive to beauty, and the loveliness of the 
spot always soothed him if he was homesick 
or unhappy. Often he longed to watch for 
the ghostly visitors of the old legends, and 
wondered if ever they really came. But as 
Brother Benedict had specially warned him 
of the dreadful calamity that had overtaken 
all who had dared do so, he never tried, but 
obeyed the bell that every evening sum- 
moned the brotherhood to their beds. 

But though he dared not wander too late 
beneath the moon and stars, through the 
long summer days he had plenty of time for 
exploring the place. In the great church, 
for quite a while after Raoul’s coming, the 
brothers were busy repairing a part of the 
roof and one of the walls where a thunder- 
bolt had fallen ; for the lofty Abbey, crown- 
ing its solitary rock, had many times been a 
182 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


target for the lightning. Raoul thought it 
very interesting to watch the brothers at 
this work; and sometimes one of them 
would take the lad with him up to the roof, 
and there let him stand upon the amazing 
little outside stairway airily poised among 
the pinnacles and so daintily carved that 
still people call it the “ Stairway of Lace.” 
Though it had been contrived for the uses 
of the Abbey, it was so beautiful that Raoul 
was quite certain that it was meant for no 
other purpose than to entice the angels down 
from heaven. 

Through its delicate balustrade he could 
look down on the quaint peaked roofs of the 
village of Saint Michael; a picture all in 
soft grays and browns, for there was only 
here and there room enough on the face of 
the rock for a little space of grass. Trees 

there were none, save on one of the steep 
183 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


slopes beneath the Abbey walls. Here was 
a little group of gnarled and weather-beaten 
oaks clambering up the rock and all leaning 
toward the Abbey, as if imploring it to pro- 
tect them from the mighty sea whose tides 
twice a day swept the sands beneath them. 

Raoul’s eyes always grew big with won- 
der as he looked at this curious bit of wood- 
land; for everyone on the Mount knew 
that it was all that was left of the ancient 
Forest of Broceliande, where the arch- 
enchanter Merlin had long ago lived and 
ruled over fairyland, until, once upon a 
time, the sea had swept over the land, swal- 
lowing up the forest and making an island 
of the Mount, which had been, before, a 
rocky hill on the Norman coast. Gazing 
down with awe on the strange, frightened 
looking old trees of Merlin’s wood, Raoul 

would often wish that he could understand 
184 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the whispering of their gray leaves, for he 
was sure they told of many marvellous 
things. 

Then, as he turned his eyes in the other 
direction, he could look far out over the 
sea. He could make out, in the distance, 
the Chausey Isles glimmering through the 
haze, and knew that, farther still, was Eng- 
land, that oftentimes made war on France, 
and that now and then sent a shipful of 
armed men toward the Norman coast. In- 
deed, it was to guard against this possible 
attack of any foes from oversea, that always, 
day and night, men in armour holding in 
their hands long bows and arrows, watched 
from the little round towers that studded the 
Abbey walls. And through peace or war, 
never did they relax their watch. For the 
Mount was a natural point of attack in case 

of war, and so the kings of France had made 
185 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

it a military fortress as well as an Abbey; 
and the monks who dwelt there were 
obliged to be warriors also, and to know 
how to fight as well as to pray. And that 
they fought to good purpose when needful, 
was proven by the fact that though the old 
Abbey had many times been besieged by 
enemies, never once had it been taken. 

And because the place was thus part for- 
tress, and prisoners were sometimes cap- 
tured in time of war, down in the heart of 
the rock terrible dungeons had been delved. 
Though of course every castle in those days 
had its dungeons, those of the Abbey were 
so especially black and fearful that Raoul 
could never bear to visit that part of the 
place ; and he was glad when Brother Bene- 
dict told him that for a long while no pris- 
oners had been shut within them. 

Thus, as the days passed, the lad gradrh 
186 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

ally learned more and more about his new 
home. The brothers were all very good to 
him; and as there were no other children 
there at the time, they indulged Raoul in 
many ways, letting him follow them about 
at their daily tasks, and now and then take 
a hand in whatever they were doing. And 
though of course he was less help than hin- 
drance, it gave him constant entertainment. 
Often he would go down to the village with 
one of the brothers, and its quaint sights 
were a never ending delight to him. 

Of course, too, he went to school. It was 
a queer little school, in one of the lower 
rooms of the Abbey, and its door opened 
on a small courtyard overgrown with phlox 
and marigolds. A monk was the teacher 
and the pupils children from the village. 
For though at that time in France peasant 

children were seldom taught anything, 
187 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

nevertheless the brotherhood of the Mount, 
shut up on their rocky little isle, regarded 
the village folk as their family and strove 
to do the best they could to teach the little 
ones. So they learned to read and cipher 
a little; and for geography they studied 
the strangest maps with queer beasts and 
monsters painted on the places then un- 
known, as much of the world was in those 
days. 

As Raoul went every day to this school, 
Brother Benedict thought it best to have 
him dress just like the village children so 
he would not attract notice among them; 
for he had been instructed that Raoul was 
in hiding and that no one must find out that 
he was there. The brother thought, too, 
that it was best to give the boy another 
name while at the Mount; so always he 

spoke to him as “ Henri,” which, though 
188 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

no one at his home ever called him by it, 
was really one of his many middle names; 
for all noble children were christened with 
a number of such. So everyone both in the 
village and the Abbey, except those few of 
the brotherhood who knew better, supposed 
that Henri was the lad’s usual name. 

Every day “ Henri ” put on a plain 
blouse of black and white checks such as the 
boys of the fisher folk wore, and soon the 
warm sun and pure air of the Mount tanned 
his white skin and gave him such health 
and vigour, that, save for his high bred fea- 
tures and noble bearing, he could scarcely 
be distinguished from his sturdy little com- 
rades of Saint Michael. 

And the lad, for all his impulsiveness, 
soon learned to speak but little of his home 
to the children with whom he played. 

They knew, of course, that he was not a vil- 
189 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

la ge boy; but as they had only vague ideas 
of other places than the Mount, beyond 
which they had never been, they were quite 
ignorant of their new playmate’s full name 
and of where he lived. 


190 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE CARRIER PIGEON 

R AOUL had been at the Abbey for 
many weeks and the time had 
passed happily enough; though 
now and then a great wave of homesickness 
would sweep over him when he thought of 
his mother and the castle of Bellaire and 
how long it had been since he had heard 
any word from home. For people in those 
days wrote few letters, and even then were 
seldom sure that such reached their friends, 
as there was no regular way to send them. 

One day as Raoul was feeling particu- 
larly homesick, all at once he remembered 
his pigeons, and thought to himself that 

even if he could get no message from his 
191 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


mother, at least he could send one to her, 
and then he would not feel quite so lone- 
some. 

He ran off at once to get Fifi, one of the 
three pigeons he had brought with him and 
which had made themselves at home in the 
Abbey cote. Fifi was standing at the door 
of the cote, preening her feathers, and came 
directly when Raoul held out his hand; for 
all the pigeons were very tame. 

But in his hurry to get Fifi, he had for- 
gotten that he did not have any message 
ready, and that even if he had, he would 
need some help to fasten it on. So scamper- 
ing down the steep flight of steps from the 
Abbey, “ Gilles! Gilles! ” he called. 

“ Ho! ” answered Gilles, a little fisher lad 
who lived in one of the old houses near by, 
and who was Raoul’s favourite playmate. 

In a moment the boys had their heads to- 
192 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

gether and Raoul was explaining what he 
wanted to do. “ Do thou hold her, Gilles,” 
he said, “ and I will find something to 
send.” 

But, as he looked about, he scarcely knew 
where to go to get anything on which to 
write; though indeed, he knew how to 
write but little even if he had had a scrap 
of paper, — which was unheard of in those 
days, — or a bit of parchment, which was 
always so precious that Raoul hated to ask 
for it at the Abbey, where they used it in 
the making of books and were very particu- 
lar about it. Then an idea struck him as 
he felt in his blouse pocket and discovered 
a handful of the pretty cockle-shells he had 
one day picked up on the sands. 

“ O,” he said, taking them out, “ See, 
Gilles! I will send one of these!” And, 

as he looked them over, “ here is one with a 
193 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

little hole in it, all ready to put a string 
through ! ” 

Gilles thought that would be fine; and 
as Raoul was wondering how he could make 
some mark on the shell, Gilles hunted about 
until he found a sharp bit of stone and 
brought it to Raoul. And then he petted 
Fifi, who was growing impatient, while 
Raoul, taking the stone, managed hurriedly 
to scratch the initials of his name on the 
white inside curve of the shell. He tried to 
write something more; but the space was 
small and it was hard to make the marks 
plain enough to be read; so he had to be 
content with his initials. But he felt sure 
that if even these reached the eyes of his 
mother, as he hoped, she would know that he 
was thinking of her. 

The next thing was to find a piece of cord 

with which to fasten the shell. Neither of 
194 


I 



“ ‘ FLY AWAY, FIFI, . . . AND CARRY MY MESSAGE STRAIGHT 

to bellaire! ” 











* 







If 


" • 




























r 



. 











































« 









* 















* 






OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the children had any about them; but 
Raoul remembered the silk lacers of his 
best velvet doublet. So, running back to the 
Abbey and up to where his clothes were 
kept, he hastily cut a bit of the cord and 
coming back to where he had left Gilles, 
the two between them tied the shell se- 
curely to one of Fill’s legs. 

Then the boys climbed to the highest 
point they could reach on the parapet of the 
wall opposite the Norman coast, and Raoul, 
raising Fifi, held her poised for a moment, 
and then launched her into the bright air. 

“ Fly away, Fifi,” he called after her, 
“ and carry my message straight to Bel- 
laire! ” 

Then as she soared upward and away, he 
watched her longingly till the tears blinded 
his eyes; for he was very homesick that 
day. 


195 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


Away, away flew Fifi, her white wings 
gleaming against the blue sky and the little 
shell twinkling in the sunlight. It seemed 
but a moment till her swift flight had car- 
ried her over and beyond the gray sands 
around the Mount, and far across the open 
country of the coast. 

Turning her rose-coloured eyes this way 
and that, soon she saw below her the green 
summer fields of Normandy, and had left 
far behind the little village of Pontorson. 

On she sped, heading straight for the dis- 
tant castle of Bellaire; for, by means of 
some strange knowledge hidden away in her 
shining, feathery head, she knew exactly the 
straightest and shortest path through the air 
to the dove-cote at her home. 

But though Fifi flew very swiftly, she saw 
beneath her many pretty and interesting 

things as she floated along. There were 
196 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

ancient villages of gray houses with red 
tiled roofs; and, beyond these, green fields 
where peasants in blue blouses and wooden 
shoes worked amid ripening grain. And 
farther still, there were bright splashes of 
golden broom blossoms between orchards 
where the red apples were already mellow- 
ing for the cider press. Sometimes a 
knight-at-arms went pricking past mounted 
on a tall horse with embroidered trappings. 
Sometimes a troop of soldiers with glitter- 
ing spears wound along the road beneath 
her or heedlessly trampled down the yellow 
grain ; — and many were the beggars who 
crept along the waysides, clad in rags and 
asking alms of every passer-by. 

But as if to make up for any unhappy 
sights, everywhere the summer flowers were 
gay with bloom. Over garden walls roses 

trailed long sprays of velvety petals and 
197 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

grapes hung in slowly purpling clusters. 
While through all the fallow lands wild 
poppies fluttered in scarlet splendour and 
queen’s - lace - handkerchief covered the 
feathery grasses with a filmy loveliness. 
Now and then a stately castle, with lofty 
turrets and guarded by moat and draw- 
bridge, swept into view; and perhaps in the 
meadows near by high born ladies strolled 
about or amused themselves weaving dainty 
garlands of flowers. 

Then there would come wide reaches of 
open country threaded by silvery streams 
fringed with poplar trees; and, here and 
there, tiny thatched cottages where peasant 
women were spinning in the doorways while 
little children played among white ducks 
and noisy chickens. 

On and on she flew, till it seemed those 

fanning wings must be so weary they could 
198 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

carry her no further. Yet only once did she 
pause, and that was when she saw below 
her a little meadow pool that looked so cool 
and inviting that she stopped her flight and 
slowly drifted down to drink. 

Fifi let the sparkling water trickle down 
her fluffy throat, and then preened her 
wings; and after that she felt so refreshed 
that when again she mounted the air it was 
not long till in the distance she saw the 
green hills and towers of Bellaire. 

The dusk was falling when she reached 
the dove-cote; and, as her tired wings 
drooped and her little feet brushed against 
one of the carved pinnacles of its roof, all 
at once off came the little shell and dropped 
down to the green grass beneath. Perhaps 
the hole in the shell had sharp edges and 
had gradually cut through the slender silk 
cord. 


199 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

At any rate, there lay the little white 
cockle-shell; and Fifi, paying no attention 
to it, slid into her own well known corner 
of the cote and, cooing happily, shut her 
pink eyes and in a moment was sound 
asleep. 


200 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER XV 

CARLE AND THE COCKLE-SHELL 

N OW, just about sunrise the next 
morning after Fifi’s return to the 
cote, little Carle Choinard came 
out into the courtyard of Bellaire; — you 
remember it was he who had brought his 
wooden shoes and blue blouse for Raoul, 
and who, when Raoul went away, had 
stayed at the castle for a serving boy. 

Carle carried in his hand a basket of 
grain; for it was one of his duties every 
morning to feed the pigeons and see that all 
was well with them. 

As he came up to the little circle of grass 
under the dove-cote, something white 

caught his attention; and stooping down 
201 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

he picked up Raoul’s cockle-shell. Carle 
was delighted with it. He had never 
touched a shell before, for he had never 
been so far as the sea; but he knew what 
it was, for he had often seen pilgrims pass- 
ing along the road by his home, and knew 
that when returning from the Mount 
they always wore a cockle-shell fastened 
either to hat or cloak. Carle did not know 
why, but it was because the cockle-shell was 
the emblem of Saint Michael’s Mount, and 
as it was considered quite a fine thing to 
have made a pilgrimage there, those who 
had done so were rather proud to fasten a 
shell somewhere about their garments as a 
token of their journey to the holy shrine. 

Carle, after admiring his new found 
treasure, — as he could not read, he thought 
nothing about the letters which Raoul had 

scratched upon it, — decided that he would 
202 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

fasten it to his cap. He had some trouble 
doing this, but, at last, with the help of a 
long thorn from an acacia tree that grew 
in the castle courtyard, he managed to 
pin it quite securely to his blue peasant 
cap. 

Soon after this it happened that Carle’s 
work took him out into one of the fields be- 
longing to Lady Alix and outside the castle 
walls. 

The summer rains had made the weeds 
spring up among the turnips, and Carle was 
to go and help pull them out. 

As presently he took his way along the 
road, he saw a rough looking man loiter- 
ing along and carrying in one hand a rabbit 
which he had caught in some snare. As 
the man came up to Carle, his quick eyes 
at once noticed the cockle-shell shining 

against the blue of his homespun cap. 

203 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


“Ho! lad,” he said, “since when hast 
thou turned pilgrim?” 

“Nay, sir,” said Carle, “I am no pil- 
grim, but I found this pretty shell under 
our dove-cote this morning.” 

“ And where may be c our dove-cote ’ 
that drops sea-shells over night, little 
man?” asked the other as he continued to 
eye the shell. 

“ Why, at Bellaire,” answered Carle in- 
nocently, “ I work there for the Lady 
Alix.” 

At this the man seemed so interested in 
the shell that he asked Carle if he might 
not take it in his hand. Carle, who was a 
good natured boy, took off his cap and, un- 
pinning the shell, handed it to the man. 

As the latter noticed the scratches on it, 
he became more and more interested. 

“ Ah,” he said, “ it is really a pretty thing. 

204 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

I would like such a one myself. What 
sayest thou, lad, give me the shell and thou 
shalt have this rabbit? See, ’tis not even 
scratched from the snare; ’twill make thee 
a fine pet! ” 

Carle looked at the rabbit, and half 
yielded; but on second thought decided 
that he would rather keep his shell, which 
had gained in value in his eyes since this 
strange man so greatly admired it; besides, 
he was in no particular need of a rabbit as 
there were a number of them at Bellaire. 
So he said, “ Nay, sir, please give me back 
my shell. I do not wish your rabbit.” 

Here the stranger felt in his pockets, but 
as they held no money he had nothing more 
to offer Carle. Of course he could easily 
have kept the shell, as Carle was only a 
little boy; but for reasons of his own he 

preferred not to take it from him by force, 
205 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


so that the lad would perhaps tell about it 
at the castle; for he did not want anyone 
there to know that he had noticed the shell. 

While the man was searching his pockets, 
Carle had been standing restlessly first on 
one bare foot and then the other, wishing 
the man would give him back his shell and 
let him go; — then all at once, while stoop- 
ing over to pick up his cap which had fallen 
from his hand, the loose front of his blouse 
gaped open and out tumbled a pair of vel- 
vet shoes. 

The way Carle happened to have the 
shoes about him was this: it seems it was 
the feast day of his patron saint, and Lady 
Alix, who was very kind and talked often 
to the little boy who was so near her dear 
Raoul’s age, had learned this the day be- 
fore; so she had told Carle that when his 

task was done in the field, he might go on 
206 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

to a little village which was down the road 
some two miles off, and see the procession 
which the parish folk would have in honour 
of the saint, and so enjoy a little holiday. 
Carle had been very pleased looking for- 
ward to this, and had ventured to get out 
the precious velvet shoes which Raoul had 
given him and which, much as he wanted 
to, he had not yet had the courage to wear 
or indeed to show to anyone; for he was 
very shy. He did not know, nor did Raoul, 
that he would not be allowed to wear them 
anyway, as the laws of the land forbade the 
peasant folk from ever wearing velvet or 
fine clothes even if through any miracle 
they came into possession of them; for the 
nobles who made the laws did not like 
others than themselves to have such things. 

So ignorant little Carle had set his heart 

on wearing his pretty shoes to the village. 

207 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

He had tucked them into his blouse, mean- 
ing to finish his weeding and then to trudge 
bare-footed till he came to a little brook 
near the village, when he would freshen 
himself up and put them on. 

As he now saw them tumbling out before 
the man, he was greatly annoyed; espe- 
cially as the man, opening his eyes in sur- 
prise, said “Oh ho, youngster! Whence 
came these? ” And with a mocking air he 
added, “ Does ‘ our dove-cote ’ drop velvet 
shoes overnight as well as cockle-shells?” 

“Nay, sir,” stammered Carle, turning 
very red, “ they are some Master Raoul 
gave me — before he went away — and — 
and — I was going to wear them because it 
is the feast day — ” here he broke off, quite 
covered with confusion. 

Though at this speech the man had 
pricked up his ears and was listening with 
208 



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OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

all his might, when Carle stopped he said 
indifferently, “ So Master Raoul has gone 
away, has he; when was that? ” 

“ Oh,” said Carle vaguely, “ I do not 
know; — quite a while ago.” For the little 
boy had no accurate way of counting time. 

And then the man asked in a tone as if he 
really did not care much to know, though 
all the while his eyes were fixed eagerly on 
Carle, “ And where was it, lad, that Master 
Raoul went? ” 

But again Carle answered, “ I do not 
know, sir.” 

“ Come, come,” said the man, “ surely 
thou must remember!” 

“ Nay, sir,” replied Carle once more, “ I 
have no idea where he is.” 

At this the man looked sharply at Carle’s 
honest face, and plainly seeing that he spoke 

the truth, and that it was no use to question 
209 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


him further, he again turned his attention 
to the little shell, which he still held in his 
hand. Before giving it back to Carle, he 
thought a moment, and then, handing it to 
him, said carelessly, “ Well, well, keep thy 
trinket, child, if thou wishest.” And then, 
as he turned as if to go, he added meaningly, 
“ I dare say, though, that thou knowest ’tis a 
sin to wear a cockle-shell on thy cap if thou 
hast not visited the holy shrine at the 
Mount.” 

On hearing this, Carle stopped stock still 
and opened his eyes till they grew very 
round. “What, sir,” he gasped (for he 
was a good child and had been taught by 
the village priest that a sin was a very ter- 
rible thing), “ a sin! ” And then helplessly 
he asked, “ O sir, what shall I do? ” 

“ Oh,” answered the strange man, “ ’tis 

easy enough. All thou hast to do is to lay 
210 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

thy shell on the first shrine by the roadside 
and offer up an Ave to our Blessed Lady.” 

Now, all along the roads of Normandy, 
as in many other old-world countries, one 
may see to this day carved stone crosses and 
images of the Virgin and Christ-Child; 
and at these shrines for centuries it has been 
the beautiful custom for travellers to stop 
and offer up their prayers, and often, too, 
they lay a flower or some other little offer- 
ing there. 

It chanced that one of these stone crosses 
was to be seen not far from where Carle 
and the strange man stood. It was a very 
old one, so old and weather-worn that no 
one knew just when it had been first set up. 
To this Carle at once hastened, and, having 
repeated his Ave, he carefully laid the 
shell in front of the shrine. Then with his 

simple heart full of gratitude to the man 
211 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

who he thought had saved him from pun- 
ishment for his unwitting sin, he hurried 
off to his task in the turnip field. 

The man, however, who was not nearly so 
good as Carle supposed him, was still slowly 
strolling along the road in the other direc- 
tion. 

But no sooner had the boy passed from 
sight, than he turned quickly about and, 
slipping quietly along, crept up to the 
shrine and with a swift movement gathered 
the shell into his palm and dropped it into 
his pocket. Then with a malicious smile he 
walked briskly on. When he had reached 
a safe distance, he took the shell from his 
pocket and carefully examined the scratches 
on it. “ R. de B.,” he spelled out to himself 
after much effort (for he could read but 
little) ; “ R. de B.? ” he repeated, question- 

ingly; and then, as he was not dull witted, 
212 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

“ Now for what else could that stand but 
Raoul de Bellaire! By all the saints, if this 
is not rare luck! Raoul de Bellaire, — 
cockle-shell, — Saint Michael’s Mount! ” 
(For, as I have told you, a cockle-shell was 
known as the emblem of the Mount.) “ So 
there’s where thou hast found thy covert, my 
pretty partridge! Ha! Ha! Ha!” 

Indeed, the man was so pleased with the 
knowledge he had gained, that it was well 
for him there was no one else on the road 
at the time; for he surely would have at- 
tracted attention by his loud shout of laugh- 
ter and the wild way in which he waved the 
poor rabbit in the air and pinched its long 
ears in the effort to work off his feelings. 

It really is most strange how things often- 
times happen in this world. This very man 
into whose hands Raoul’s cockle-shell had 

fallen, was the very one of all people who 
213 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

should never have seen it I For the Baron 
D’Arcour, though his men had been 
thwarted in their plan of carrying Raoul 
off the day of the falcon hunt, nevertheless, 
as Lady Alix and her brother had feared, 
had by no means given up the intention of 
getting possession of the boy if it were in 
any way possible. And so he had still one 
or two ruffians in his pay, whose business 
it was to watch the castle of Bellaire and 
try and find some other way to take Raoul. 

These men, however, had finally begun 
to think that Raoul was hidden some- 
where else, though they could not discover 
where. One of them had grown discour- 
aged and had gone away, but the other had 
still lingered, vaguely hoping to get some 
clue. And this man it was who had aim- 
lessly gone out that morning with his hunt- 
ing bag, and who had unexpectedly cap- 
214 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

tured so much better game than he had 
dreamed of; for Carle’s answers when he 
had questioned him about the velvet shoes 
had betrayed the fact that Raoul had in- 
deed left Castle Bellaire; while the cockle- 
shell in his hand told him the story of where 
the lad had taken refuge. 

And so he had but to carry the tale, and 
take the little shell for proof, to Baron 
D’Arcour, and receive the promised re- 
ward. Which he promptly set about doing 
as quickly as he could. 


215 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER XVI 

THE QUICKSAND 

O NE morning, a few weeks after 
Raoul had sent Fifi off with the 
cockle-shell, he was down on the 
sands around the Mount playing with some 
boys of the fisher folk. 

The people of the Abbey in whose charge 
the lad had been placed had taken good care 
of him; but as time went on and no harm 
came to him and as he grew to know the 
ways of the village, the brothers, as even the 
best watchers will sometimes do, became a 
little less careful, and now and then he en- 
joyed a romp on the sands with his village 
playmates. The good brothers considered 

that his tanned skin and his dress, exactly 
216 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

like the other children, was his best protec- 
tion, as indeed it was; and even Lady Alix, 
could she have glanced at the merry group 
of bare-footed boys racing to and fro be- 
neath the walls of the Mount, would have 
been perplexed to know which one was 
Raoul. 

The tide had just gone out; and now and 
then the children would stop to watch the 
fishermen unloading the great nets stretched 
in long lines over the sands. And such 
strange things as came out of them! There 
were fishes of many kinds, with bright g lis- 
tening scales and round eyes, all of them 
feebly struggling in the hands of their cap- 
tors and gasping and frightened to find that 
the life-giving water had deserted them. 
Then there were great masses of curious 
sea-weeds; long branches of kelp, brown 

and crimson; trailing, tangled grasses, 
217 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

water-plants with lush green leaves span- 
gled all over with flecks of silver; now and 
then a star-fish with gleaming purple or 
orange rays, or a round sea-urchin bristling 
with angry spines. 

It was all so interesting that the children 
lingered till the last net gave up its yield; 
and then they began chasing each other over 
the sand, wading in the little pools and 
streams the sea had left behind it, scram- 
bling over the rocks after the sprawling 
jelly-fishes, and all the while laughing and 
shouting as if they themselves had chased 
away the sea in order to have so fine a play- 
ground. 

Presently, in the midst of their play, 
Raoul and Gilles, who were wading to- 
gether in a rock pool, happened to glance 
over toward the mainland and noticed some 

people on foot and two horsemen coming 
218 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

across the sands to the Mount. The boys 
did not pay much attention to this, however, 
as pilgrims journeyed thither almost every 
day; though as men on horseback came 
more rarely, they looked once or twice 
rather curiously at the riders. 

Just then “ Oh seel” cried one of the 
fisher-boys near by, “ what a lot of mussel- 
shells! ” 

“Wait! Wait!” shouted Raoul and 
Gilles, “ Wait till we come before you dig 
them out! ” 

And, scrambling from their pool, they 
rushed over to where the others were poking 
in the wet sand in the midst of a colony of 
dark, tightly closed shells. Every now and 
then, as the children tried to pry them out, 
one of the shells would open a tiny crack 
and the angry little fish within would 

suddenly send up a jet of salt water 
219 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


straight in their faces, and then how they 
laughed! 

Indeed, they had so merry a time, that 
for a little while they forgot all about the 
pilgrims. 

When next they looked in that direction, 
they saw that one of the men on horseback 
seemed to have strayed quite a distance 
from the others and that his head was bent 
as if in deep thought; he rode heedlessly, 
seeming to pay no particular attention to 
just where he was going. 

Now, as I have told you, scattered about 
in the great reach of gray sand that sur- 
rounded the Mount, were many dangerous 
quicksands. 

The people who lived thereabout, and es- 
pecially the folk of Saint Michael, knew 
where these places were, so they could avoid 

them. But every year many pilgrims, corn- 
220 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

in g from a distance and ignorant or careless 
of the region, lost their lives in those treach- 
erous sands. 

The fisher-boys with Raoul had been 
taught from babyhood just where were the 
places that they must not go near lest they 
be drawn down to their death; and they 
had taken pains to show Raoul also. 

So presently they all turned with a start 
when one of the boys cried out, “ See yonder 
horseman! He is going toward the Tombe- 
laine quicksand! ” 

As the Tombelaine quicksand was the 
very worst of all, the fisher-boys were so 
frightened that they fairly held their 
breaths as, with wide eyes, they watched the 
rider. Raoul, however, who had his wits 
alertly about him, instantly shouted at the 
top of his voice, “ Ho! Ho! Sir horseman! 
The quicksand! ” 


221 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


But the rider, though by this time quite 
within earshot, gave no heed to him. The 
boys had been shouting in their play, and 
the horseman, lost in some perplexing 
thought, if he noticed them at all no doubt 
supposed that they were still only playing 
and did not realize that anyone was calling 
to him. 

Then without another word, Raoul, dart- 
ing from the group of boys, sped like a deer 
across the sand and coming up to the rider 
seized the loose bridle of his horse and, 
tugging with all his might, pulled it back 
just on the edge of the deadly quicksand 
into which in another moment it must surely 
have plunged. 

At this, the rider, suddenly roused up, 
and still not understanding the reason but 
merely seeing a bare-footed boy, seemingly 

a fisher-lad, pulling at his bridle, an angry 
222 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


fire leaped into his eyes, — for he was a 
quick, hot-tempered man, — and on the 
spur of the moment raising the small whip 
he held in his right hand, with a sharp 
“Begone, little rascal!” he dealt Raoul a 
stinging blow, cutting across his cheek and 
upraised hand. 

Raoul was so amazed he scarcely knew 
what had happened to him. But when he 
realized that he had been deliberately 
struck by the man he had saved from death, 
he dropped back and stood for a full minute 
eying the horseman, his own eyes fairly 
blazing with wrath and indignation; the 
more so as he felt his utter helplessness to 
do anything. His face, except for the red 
mark of the whip, was deadly white as he 
turned away saying fiercely to himself, 
“ When I am a grown man I will fight him 

for that, if he is at the end of the world! ” 
223 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


By this time one or two of the other boys 
had come up, excitedly talking of the quick- 
sand, and then Baron D’Arcour (for the 
rider was no other than he, although he had 
no idea it was Raoul who stood before him, 
for neither knew the other) , when he real- 
ized the danger from which the lad had 
saved him and what he had done in return, 
began to feel a trifle ashamed of himself. 
However, he soon dismissed the matter by 
giving his head a haughty lift and taking 
from his purse a gold piece which he flung 
toward Raoul saying, “ There, lad, is some 
yellow salve for thy wounds!” And then 
he rode on in the direction of the other 
pilgrims. 

But no sooner had the coin touched the 
sand than Raoul, who was speechless with 
rage, gave it so scornful a kick that it went 

spinning far over the ground and finally 
224 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

dropped in a little pool among the rocks. 
And then he turned about and stalked off 
so haughtily that none of the fisher-lads 
dared follow him, but stared after him with 
open mouths. 


225 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER XVII 

PIERRE TRIES HIS PLAN 

M EANTIME, Baron D’Arcour, 
having rejoined the party of pil- 
grims from whom he had 
strayed, rode close up to the other horseman 
who lagged somewhat behind the foot-trav- 
ellers, and, leaning toward him, he said in 
a low tone, “ Pierre, I trust the lodging thou 
hast found for us is quiet and away from the 
inns, and this herd.” And he looked at the 
pilgrims with a contemptuous glance. 

The man the baron addressed was the 
same Pierre who had escaped when his two 
companions were caught at the Saucy 
Castle. He had made his way back to 

Baron D’Arcour, and, by telling the latter 
226 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


a number of lies and making him believe 
that it was entirely owing to himself that 
Raoul had been captured the day of the 
falcon hunt, and entirely the fault of the 
other two robbers that the lad had escaped 
their clutches, he had got Baron D’Arcour 
to again take him into his service. 

Though this time the baron, still intent 
on his schemes to gain possession of Raoul, 
had determined to visit the Mount and see 
for himself how their plans turned out. 

As he now inquired about the lodging he 
had ordered Pierre to secure, “Yes, my 
lord,” answered the latter, “ the place is full 
quiet; ’tis the house of a basket weaver 
back of the parish church. He thinks you a 
pious soul come to study in the great books 
of the Abbey.” And here Pierre gave a 
wicked little laugh. 

Baron D’Arcour nodded his head as if 
227 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


satisfied; for, as his only reason for coming 
to the Mount was to try and get possession 
of Raoul, he wished no one to know him 
and to go about his plans as quietly as pos- 
sible. 

Presently they entered the walls of the 
queer little village, and left their horses at 
a stable near the gateway; and a strange 
place it was. Merely a small, irregularly 
shaped room that served for smithy as well, 
and all burrowed between the crevices of 
the solid rock that towered high above. It 
was the only stable on the Mount, for ex- 
cept for the few horses that occasionally 
bore pilgrims thither, none were to be seen 
there; indeed, there was no need or place 
for them in that steep little island village 
with its one hilly street and narrow by-lanes 
of rocky steps. 

So Baron D’Arcour, after engaging that 
228 


OR; THE STORY OF RAOUL 

their horses should be cared for till they 
wished to leave, dismounted and, with 
Pierre, went on foot up to the basket 
weaver’s where they were to lodge. It was 
an old stone house with a tall tower and a 
tiny square garden enclosed on two sides by 
the strong wall that defended the Mount, 
for the house was near the edge of the rock; 
in this garden a few flowers bloomed, and 
a sea-gull with clipped wings wandered 
sadly about. 

The place suited the baron very well, for 
the basket weaver was an old man who was 
busy with his own work and not disposed 
to meddle with their affairs. And the bas- 
ket weaver was equally well pleased with 
his lodgers, who gave him little trouble. 
They went about quietly, slipping in and 
out of the house and disturbing no one. 

The baron left it to Pierre to discover the 
229 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

whereabouts of Raoul; he himself seldom 
going out except after dusk or to wander 
in the rocky by-lanes of the place ; for many 
visitors came to the Mount, and he wanted 
to keep his movements secret and did not 
wish to risk being seen by anyone he knew. 

By the time the baron and Pierre had 
been in the village for several days, Pierre, 
who was a crafty fellow, had managed to 
find out a number of things. Pretending 
to be a pilgrim, he had gone often to the 
Abbey and had made friends with the hum- 
bler brothers who served in the kitchen. 
From them he learned that there was in- 
deed a fair haired boy staying at the Abbey; 
and though they spoke of him as “ Henri,” 
that did not deceive Pierre in the least, for 
he had quite expected that Raoul would be 
given a different name while at the Mount. 

The brothers from whom Pierre heard 
230 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

of “ Henri ” had no idea they were betray- 
ing any secrets; indeed, they knew very 
little about the lad. 

Pierre did not seem particularly inter- 
ested in him, though he slyly asked as many 
questions as he dared without making the 
brothers suspicious; and once, during one 
of his visits to the Abbey, when Raoul hap- 
pened to pass through the kitchen and some- 
one called to him “ Good day, Henri!” 
Pierre turned quietly, and eying him in- 
tently, at once recognized him ; for in spite 
of the lad’s plumper cheeks and tanned 
skin, Pierre very well remembered the face 
of the captive of the falcon hunt. 

But though Pierre had thus learned posi- 
tively that the boy was at the Abbey, he had 
discovered also that to find him alone was 
no easy matter; for he saw that while Raoul 

had seemingly the liberty of the village and 
231 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


the sands, yet he was almost always in sight 
of one or the other of the brothers, or more 
or less under the eye of some one older, so 
that it was difficult to get near enough to 
capture him. 

He turned over in his mind various plans 
for seizing the boy, but none of them seemed 
quite safe to work out. He became daily 
more discouraged, and his master, the 
baron, was growing more and more impa- 
tient because he had not yet succeeded in 
getting possession of the lad as he had been 
ordered to do. But Pierre continued to 
visit the Abbey as often as he dared; all 
the while keeping his ears and eyes open for 
the coveted chance to seize Raoul. In this 
way he by and by learned that Raoul’s fa- 
vourite place in the Abbey was the cloister; 
and that often in the early evening he would 

take a book there, and when the light 
232 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

failed so he could no longer read, that he 
would often walk up and down the cloister 
aisles enjoying the pleasant sea air and 
watching the stars come out; and that at 
such times he was frequently alone while the 
monks were at their evening tasks. 

When Pierre found out this, he thought 
things over, and finally made a plan; he 
decided that he would watch his chance and 
hide in the great church near the cloister, 
and then if he could catch Raoul alone, he 
would hurry him into the church; once 
there, he counted on being able to take the 
lad and make his escape by sliding down 
the scaffolding that the workmen repairing 
the church had built against the outer 
wall. 

He hoped thus to reach the shelter of 
Merlin’s wood, and then the rest would be 
easy. 


233 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


Of course this was rather a reckless plan, 
for, even if he succeeded in capturing the 
boy, it would have been a perilous under- 
taking to attempt safely to descend the sheer 
face of the outer wall by means of the light 
scaffolding, which did not reach all the way 
to the ground. 

But then Pierre could think of no other 
way to do, and he was growing desperate. 

Anxious to put his plan to the test, the 
very next afternoon he went up to the Ab- 
bey; and, pretending that he was going into 
the church to worship at the shrine there, 
he followed some pilgrims in; and when 
they had finished their prayers, their 
thoughts were so taken up with looking 
around at the many beautiful carvings and 
paintings that nobody noticed that Pierre 
did not come out with the party. 

He had crept back behind a group of 
234 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

pillars, and keeping in the shadows, man- 
aged to hide so well that no one saw him or 
supposed that he was there. 

After a while, twilight began to fall ; and, 
slipping to the door of the church, sure 
enough, he saw Raoul loitering along one 
of the arcaded walks. He had a parchment 
book in his hands, and though it was grow- 
ing too dark to see to read, he still kept his 
finger between the leaves where he had left 
off. Pierre was vexed to see that the boy 
was not alone; for the monks were still 
passing to and fro, and now and then one of 
them would stop and speak to Raoul, for all 
were fond of him. 

Pierre, however, bided his time; and by 
and by, at the sound of a bell, the brothers 
all went off for evening prayers in one of 

the many chapels that were a part of the 
235 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

church. Pierre impatiently waited for 
them to finish, as he did not dare to seize 
Raoul until the church was empty. 

It seemed to him that they would never 
have done with their service; but at length 
the last chant died away, and one by one the 
brothers paced out, leaving Pierre alone in 
the church. 

About this time, Raoul had seated him- 
self on a stone bench that stood on the grass 
of the cloister court and just outside one of 
the covered aisles. He laid the book open 
on his lap, and now and then glanced idly 
at the paintings that bordered the pages and 
which in the starlight gleamed faintly, a 
blur of gold and rainbow colours. 

Soon a new moon rode up among the 
stars and hung directly over the cloister 
court. Though its light was faint, it was 

yet strong enough for Raoul suddenly to 
236 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

notice that a shadow fell across the open 
page on his knee. 

Startled, he quickly looked behind him, 
and vaguely seeing something dark moving 
toward him, swift as a flash he sprang from 
the seat and scampered off, as fast as his 
legs would carry him, to the farther side of 
the cloister; and there, sheltered under 
cover of a doorway leading to a place of 
safety, he stopped and peered back into the 
courtyard. But though he looked very 
hard, he could see nothing at all unusual. 

Now it had chanced that as Raoul sat on 
the bench, the book he had just been read- 
ing was full of old legends about the Abbey; 
and when it grew too dark to read he had 
been sitting thinking over the strange stories, 
and remembering also the tales Brother 
Benedict had told him, his mind was so 

filled with it all, that when he saw the 
237 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


shadow and the vague, dark something be- 
hind him he supposed of course it was some 
supernatural being. And though Raoul 
was brave as anybody when he knew what 
he was facing, when it came to ghostly visit- 
ors, he was like most other people, and had 
no notion of getting too close to them. 
Nevertheless, he had much curiosity about 
such things, and when at a safe distance he 
was really quite disappointed that nothing 
more happened in the cloister. 

When presently he went into the Abbey, 
he said nothing to any of the brothers about 
it; for he thought they would laugh at him 
and perhaps think him a coward; — though 
if he had dreamed what it really was that 
had made the shadow, he would have 
thanked his lucky stars for the fears that 
had made him scamper away. 

Pierre, for of course it was he who had 
238 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

attempted stealthily to creep up behind 
Raoul, was greatly provoked to find the boy 
escape him just as he thought he could al- 
most put his hand upon him. But he saw 
that it was no use trying any more for that 
time at least; and so there was nothing left 
for him to do but to creep back into the 
church for the night; since he knew that the 
entrance to the Abbey was guarded and he 
could not slip out unseen. So, curling up 
in a dark corner, he fell asleep. 


239 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER XVIII 

PIERRE AN EAVESDROPPER 

W HEN Pierre had gone to sleep in 
his corner, he had intended to 
keep hidden until the next day, 
when he meant to join some of the many 
pilgrims, who were always coming and go- 
ing, and so leave the church without any- 
one noticing him. But he slept so soundly 
that when, at daybreak, the sacristan came 
in, he did not hear him. 

Now one of the pilgrims the day before 
had complained that he had lost his wallet 
in the church and could not find it; and so 
the sacristan had come in early in order 
that he might search carefully all around 

and try to discover it. Presently, on look- 
240 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

mg behind the group of pillars, he found 
Pierre. 

“Ho, man!” he said, poking him with 
his foot, “ What in Saint Michael’s name 
art thou doing here? ” 

At this Pierre, rousing up, began to yawn 
and rub his eyes; and blinking at the sac- 
ristan, “ Ah,” he muttered, with ready de- 
ceit, “ I am a poor pilgrim; and yesterday 
I was so weary with the long journey I have 
made hither, that I sat down here to rest, 
and I must have slept all the night.” 

Here the sacristan, who had been looking 
suspiciously at him, gave an exclamation of 
horror. “What!” he cried, “Dost thou 
mean to say thou hast passed the night here? 
Is it possible, fellow, thou dost not know 
that dreadful misfortune overtakes anyone 
who offends our blessed Saint Michael and 

the holy angels by staying here through the 
241 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

night? ” And the sacristan hastily crossed 
himself and drew back from Pierre. 

“Nay,” answered the latter, bewildered, 
“ I knew naught of that! I meant no of- 
fence to the blessed saint nor the angels! ” 

But the sacristan, muttering an Ave, 
turned away. He had intended to search 
Pierre for the lost wallet, for he did not like 
his looks; but he now let him go, as he 
feared to bring evil upon himself by even 
laying hold of so impious a man. 

Meantime, Pierre, feeling very uncom- 
fortable and not a little frightened, slunk 
out and made haste to get away from the 
Abbey, whose frowning walls now held for 
him a nameless terror. For Pierre was very 
superstitious, and if he had ever heard the 
old tradition about the church, nothing 
could have induced him to pass the night 
within its portals. 


242 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


Back in his room at the basket weaver’s, 
the more Pierre thought about it, the more 
oppressed he became with fear of what un- 
known calamity might befall him because 
of his unwitting act of sleeping all night in 
the Abbey church. Moreover, the longer 
he had stayed in the village the more he had 
learned about affairs at the Mount, of which 
he had really known but little. For though 
Pierre was a shrewd fellow, he was very 
ignorant. He now knew that the brothers 
up in the Abbey were known not only as 
monks but also as brave fighters. He had 
heard, too, of the terrible dungeons hewn 
in the mighty rock; and the more he 
learned, the more he began to realize that 
the Abbey of Saint Michael was a far more 
formidable place than he had supposed. 
To be sure, he had made friends with the 

humble brothers in the kitchen; but that 
243 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


was all. And when he recalled how sus- 
piciously the sacristan had looked at him, 
the more and more unwilling he felt to risk 
meeting the latter and perhaps be recog- 
nized by him. In truth, he came to have a 
great dread of visiting any part of the Ab- 
bey again. 

At last he made up his mind that he 
would even rather give up the chance of 
getting the reward which Baron D’Arcour 
had promised him, than try again to capture 
Raoul within the walls of the Abbey. 

He still cherished a lingering hope, how- 
ever, that something would turn up to help 
him get the boy elsewhere. And so he kept 
putting off telling the baron that he would 
no longer go near the Abbey. 

But at last, one day just as he was about 
to give it all up and tell Baron D’Arcour, 

who was growing very angry with him, that 
244 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


he could no longer serve him, chance helped 
him out in a most unexpected way. 

It happened that he was in his room at 
the basket weaver’s furbishing up a doublet 
for himself, when all at once through the 
open window he heard boys’ voices. He 
glanced out and saw, leaning over the para- 
pet of the great wall of the Mount, two lads, 
one of whom he at once recognized as 
Raoul. They were bending over the basket 
weaver’s garden watching the sea gull, 
which was making unavailing efforts to fly 
with its poor, clipped wings. 

Presently the village lad, who was 
Raoul’s friend Gilles, said, “ Henri, dost 
thou know there is to be a puppet-show to- 
night?” 

“ Is there?” cried Raoul, “ Where- 
abouts? ” 

“ Out on the sands not far from the gate- 
245 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

way/’ said Gilles, “ that is where the pup- 
pet-shows always go. Thou knowest it is so 
steep and rocky, and the street is so narrow 
here inside the wall, that there is no room 
for the people to stand.” 

Gilles was quite right about this; for he 
had often seen these travelling puppet- 
shows which came at intervals to Saint 
Michael, and which were always obliged 
to take place out on the level sands where 
an audience might stand around and see 
them. But though they came more or less 
often, this was the first to visit the village 
since Raoul’s arrival at the Abbey; and as 
the little boy had never before had a chance 
to see anything of the kind, he listened to 
Gilles with wide open eyes. 

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “I wish I could 
see it! I wonder if Brother Benedict will 

go! ” For he well knew that his guardians 
246 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

at the Abbey would not allow him to go 
alone with Gilles. 

“ Oh dear no,” answered Gilles, “ the 
brothers never go to such things. But canst 
thou not get him to let thee go with us? 
Father and mother will be there too.” 

Raoul, whose face had fallen at the first 
of Gilles’ answer, brightened up when he 
heard that the fisher-boy’s parents were 
going, also. For though the lad chafed at 
being so constantly watched, he knew it was 
no use to rebel against the care the Abbey 
folks had been instructed to take of him. 

“Yes,” he said eagerly, “surely Brother 
Benedict will think it is all right when he 
hears that thy father and mother will be 
with us! I will run up and ask him now! ” 

And at once he went hurrying up the 
long flight of steps leading to the Abbey. 

As Pierre, who had all the while been 
247 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


watching and listening to the talk of the 
two boys, now saw Raoul racing off toward 
the Abbey, he turned away from the win- 
dow and, “ Ah, ha! ” he said to himself, “ I 
shall watch for thee, my pretty bird! And 
if thy wings are not clipped to-night like 
yonder gull’s, may I never taste boar’s meat 
or red wine again! ” 

Indeed, so sure was he that he would 
manage to take the boy that evening, that 
he told Baron D’Arcour to be in readiness 
and to order their horses saddled so that 
they might ride at a moment’s notice. 


248 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER XIX 

THE PUPPET SPIOW 

T HE long, bright afternoon passed; 

and then, when dusk fell, in 
through the gate of the village 
came a man dressed in motley, with a pup- 
pet in a scarlet suit bobbing from the top 
of his high pointed cap. 

From a leathern strap slung over his 
shoulders hung a small drum, and this he 
kept beating as he slowly walked along the 
narrow street and up and down the rocky 
stairs of all the steep little lanes, calling out, 
the while, the hour of the show. At his 
heels followed a troop of eager Saint Mi- 
chael children and more than one grown 
person, for all delighted in the puppet- 
shows. 


249 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


When Raoul had hurried back to the Ab- 
bey that afternoon and asked Brother Bene- 
dict’s permission to go, the latter at first had 
been unwilling; but the lad had begged so 
hard, and as the brother knew that Gilles’s 
father and mother were honest people who 
would take the best possible care of him, at 
last he had given his consent. 

Now hearing the drum, Raoul, in his 
eagerness to get off, could hardly wait to 
eat his supper or for Brother Benedict to 
finish his; for the young monk was to go 
with him to the home of Gilles. By and by, 
however, they started; Raoul scampering 
down the steep steps two at a time, so that 
Brother Benedict had almost to run to keep 
up with him. 

The brother enjoyed it though, and 
looked a little wistful as, after leaving 

Raoul with his friends, he parted from the 
250 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

merry group around the fisherman’s door; 
for, to tell the truth, he too would right well 
have liked to go out on the sands with the 
others. But as puppet-shows were not for 
those of his order, he smothered a little sigh 
and, turning away, toiled back up the Ab- 
bey steps. 

It was a soft evening of early autumn. 
Soon, over the Mount, the moon came 
riding up and seemed to poise in the 
heavens almost directly above the topmost 
pinnacle of the wondrous Abbey church. 
A fitful wind was blowing, and now and 
then a drifting cloud would float over the 
bright face of the moon, leaving a wake of 
velvety shadows that trailed off the next 
moment in a sheen of silver light. 

Out around the Mount the white radiance 
flooded the sands till they shone and glim- 
mered and twinkled almost as if the sea al- 
251 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


ready covered them; the sea, that was still 
sleeping far off on the dim horizon, but that 
by and by, before the hush of midnight, 
would suddenly awaken and sweep around 
the rocky isle in a wild riot of gleaming, 
foam-capped waves. 

But the people of Saint Michael were 
used to planning their actions to suit the sea, 
and knew there was plenty of time for the 
play on the sands. 

On an open space, not far from the gate- 
way, was set up the mimic theatre; it was 
made of a large box with green curtains and 
raised on a stout table so as to be more easily 
seen. Behind it, his head covered with an- 
other curtain, stood the man who had 
beaten the drum and who would presently 
manage the puppets on the tiny stage; pull- 
ing them about by means of wires, talking 

for them, and in all ways making them per- 
252 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

form as nearly as possible like real people 
in a play. 

A lighted torch flared in front of the stage 
and lit up the faces of the Saint Michael 
folk, who had gathered about, watching 
with eager expectancy for the curtain to be 
drawn aside and the show to begin. For the 
villagers had few amusements, and the man 
who brought the puppets was always sure 
of an audience. 

And they had not long to wait; for soon 
all was ready, there came another lively 
beating of the drum, and then the green 
curtains were drawn apart and the show 
began. 

It was really astonishing what antics the 
little, jointed wooden puppets could be 
made to play; and all the people clapped 
their hands with delight as out came a 

clown dressed in white with red buttons 
253 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

and a white cap with a little red tas- 
sel. 

“ Pierrot! Pierrot!” cried several 
voices; for so French folk always call this 
prankish little figure. 

Then another puppet, dressed in motley, 
came stiffly striding out, holding up a little 
wooden hoop; and, in another moment, 
plump went Pierrot through it, turning a 
funny little somersault before alighting on 
his feet. 

“Bravo, Pierrot! Bravo!” shouted the 
people, again clapping their hands loudly 
at this. For the peasant folk and villagers 
and pilgrims who helped swell the crowd, 
were as excitable and pleased as the chil- 
dren, and it all seemed just as real to them 
as to the smallest of the boys and girls. 

After Pierrot, came a juggler wearing a 

green suit and parti-coloured hose, one leg 
254 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

red and one yellow, and standing in the 
middle of the stage, he began tossing up 
two tiny gilded balls; by a clever arrange- 
ment of threads the balls each time drop- 
ping back into his hands. 

The juggler was always a favourite per- 
former and everybody knew he would catch 
the balls; but none the less, the people held 
their breaths and “ See, he has caught them! 
There! There! They are going to fall! 
No, no, he has them now! ” came from ex- 
cited lips, and when he had finished, he 
was loudly applauded. 

The next puppet to appear was a dancer 
in fluffy pink skirts, a blue bodice and little 
white slippers. She bobbed and courtesied, 
and everyone laughed with pleasure as she 
danced up and down and whirled round 
and round on the very tips of her toes. 

Then she went bobbing off the stage, and 
255 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

the curtains were drawn for a few minutes 
so that the man behind might make ready 
for the last scene. For this he had a boy 
to help him, as there were to be several 
figures in it, and he could not manage them 
all with his two hands. 

Raoul and Gilles, who with the latter’s 
father and mother were standing side by 
side in the midst of the crowd, had been 
absorbed in the performance; and now 
they were delighted as everyone else when 
the showman announced that the last scene 
would be the combat between Roland and 
Oliver. There was a great clapping of 
hands at this; for Roland and Oliver were 
the two darling heroes of the French people 
and everybody, even the poorest peasant 
folk, knew their story. 

And no doubt you, too, have read some- 
thing of Roland, the famous and beloved 
256 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

nephew of the great King Charlemagne, 
and Oliver, his dear boyhood friend and 
sworn comrade-in-arms. Perhaps, too, you 
know the story of the combat before the 
walls of the old town of Viana, of which 
Oliver’s grandsire was the ruler and which, 
because of a foolish quarrel, Charlemagne 
was besieging; — for it was a scene from 
this story that the puppets were to act out 
before the Saint Michael villagers. 

Everyone waited eagerly, and when the 
green curtains were again drawn, the stage 
showed a little scene rudely painted on 
stout pasteboard. There was a gray wall 
at the back, meant to be the wall of Viana; 
and in about the middle of the stage was 
spread a strip of bright blue cloth to repre- 
sent the river Rhone; and a bit of frayed 
green velvet laid on top of it everyone knew 

was the island where the combat would 
257 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

take place. At the front of the stage the 
brown pasteboard did very well for ground. 

Then four puppets came strutting out 
from a tiny gate in the town wall, and seated 
themselves on the far side of the river. 
These were to represent the nobles who 
were to watch the fight; for the men of 
both Viana and Charlemagne’s army hav- 
ing grown tired of the long siege, it had 
been decided to settle the matter, as was 
often done in those days, by choosing by lot 
two brave knights, one from each side, and 
these were to fight together. If the knight 
from Viana won, then the army of King 
Charlemagne was to withdraw and leave 
the town in peace; whereas if Charle- 
magne’s champion was victor, Viana was 
pledged to surrender. The story says that 
the lot for the champion of Viana had fallen 

to a certain knight wearing a red plume; 

258 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

while on the other side Roland was the 
chosen one; though neither Roland nor the 
Knight of the Red Plume knew the other, 
for of course both wore helmets and visors 
that entirely covered their faces. 

And now we come to the puppets again. 
When a figure dressed in armour, with a 
small red feather waving from his helmet, 
came riding in on a little wooden horse, 
everyone shouted “ Long live the Viana 
knight! ” 

And when at the front of the stage three 
more puppets appeared escorting two fig- 
ures on horseback, there was even a wilder 
shouting, “Charlemagne! Roland! Long 
live Charlemagne and Roland!” 

Indeed, there was no mistaking these last 
two puppets, for they were ever so much 
taller than any of the others; for was it not 

common knowledge that Charlemagne was 
259 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

a mighty king and that Roland was no less 
than eight feet high? And so when the 
little wooden horses, bearing their famous 
riders, paused a moment, again there burst 
forth cries of “ Long live Charlemagne and 
Roland!” For all these heroes were very 
real and dear to everyone and lived on for- 
ever in the hearts of the people. 

When the great king and his attendants 
had seated themselves as had done the no- 
bles of Viana, the two champions on their 
horses were placed in toy boats and drawn 
over the blue river to the island in its 
centre. Then stiffly raising their small 
lances, they charged each other so furiously 
that they almost plunged off the tiny scrap 
of green velvet, and everybody cheered 
loudly. Then presently getting down from 
their little wooden horses, the two puppets 

stood facing each other, breathing dire 
260 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

threats; — for all the while, the showman 
and his assistant, who were pulling the 
threads and wires that moved the puppets, 
were also talking for them, which mightily 
pleased the audience. 

Then the two champions drew their 
swords, and as Roland’s tiny blade flashed 
out, “ Durandal!” cried the delighted folk 
looking on. For, of course, the little, 
mimic sword represented the magic blade, 
Durandal, which had been forged by the 
fairies and which the hero Roland had won 
from the giant Jatmund. The fighting 
figures on the stage now raised their arms 
and struck at each other many times, while 
the audience, breathlessly watching, cried 
out “ A Roland for an Oliver!” an old 
phrase dear to the hearts of the French 
people, and which means tit for tat 

and that each champion was giving the 
261 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

other as good as he got in the way of 
blows. 

Presently, however, Roland’s sword Du- 
randal broke the blade of the knight of 
Viana, and then, generously unwilling to 
take advantage of him, Roland proposed 
that they rest awhile until another sword 
might be found. So they seated themselves 
a moment, and then the three nobles with 
King Charlemagne, admiring the bravery 
of the Knight of the Red Plume, courte- 
ously placed their own swords in one of the 
little boats and they were drawn over to the 
island for the weaponless knight to choose 
one of them. 

When he had done so, he and Roland 
again rose to their feet and rushed at each 
other so fiercely that each thrust the helmet 
from off the head of the other. 

At this there was a moment’s pause; and 
262 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

then, “I yield me, Roland!” joyously 
cried the knight from Viana, while with 
equal ardour Roland shouted at the same 
instant, “ I yield me, Oliver! ” 

For, of course, as everyone had known 
from the first, the Knight of the Red Plume 
was no other than Roland’s dear friend and 
comrade-in-arms; though of course, too, 
everybody knew that the two had not seen 
each other for a long time and that neither 
guessed, until the helmets came off, that he 
had been fighting his best friend. 

As the two puppets fell on each other’s 
neck and hugged one another, there was a 
wild cheering from the audience; for 
everyone liked the happy ending of the com- 
bat, so different from most in those warlike 
times. There is more in the old story of 
how Oliver’s grandsire, the lord of Viana, 

and King Charlemagne made friends and 
263 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


peace with one another, but the combat on 
the island was meant to be the end of the 
puppet-show. 

Yet the people still lingered, clamouring 
for more; and as everything had gone so 
well and many pennies had fallen into the 
wooden box which had been passed around, 
the showman was in a good humour, and 
when someone called out “ The dancer! 
Give us the dancer once more!” he prom- 
ised that he would, and began hunting 
among his puppets for the little figure 
which had already been put away. 

Now among the people looking on, it 
happened that there were many pilgrims; 
for a large number had come to the Mount 
that day, and so the crowd was greater than 
usual. And as the stage was small and not 
easily seen at a distance, all the time the 

audience kept surging about trying to 
264 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

squeeze up as close as possible to the 
front. 

In this crowding up of the people for a 
last sight of the puppet dancer, for which 
the showman was still hunting, presently 
Raoul, who with his party had been in about 
the middle of the audience, found himself 
pushed apart from Gilles and his friends. 
Though it seemed accidental, it really was 
because a man in the midst of the throng 
had been for a long time crowding those in 
front of him and skilfully thrusting the 
mass of people about, in the effort to get 
near the lad and at the same time separate 
him from his party. Many times he had 
been foiled in the attempt by some sudden 
movement of the people; but at last he had 
succeeded, and Raoul was apart from Gilles 
and the others and directly in front of him. 

In another moment, while the delighted 
265 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

village folk were all clapping their hands 
as the little puppet dancer again appeared 
twirling about on her toes, quick as a flash 
he seized Raoul’s arm, and at the same in- 
stant saying to him in a low, threatening 
tone, “ Hold thy tongue, or I will kill 
thee! ” he dragged him quickly outside the 
group of people and hurried toward the 
gate of the town. 

As ill luck would have it, the man, who 
was Pierre, was helped in his plans by the 
fact that the clouds still blowing about the 
sky now quite darkened the moonlight, so 
no one noticed the two. Indeed, it was all 
done so quickly that almost before Raoul 
knew it he found himself thrust into a dark 
corner of the stable, which, you remember, 
was burrowed into the rocks near the town 
gateway; there someone bound his hands 
and tied a kerchief over his mouth. And 
266 



HE DRAGGED HIM QUICKLY OUTSIDE THE GROUP OF PEOPLE.” 







































































OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

then in a brief while two horses were led 
out by the murky light of a small lantern, 
and Raoul saw the man he had saved from 
the quicksand hastily slip a gold-piece into 
the hand of the stable boy as he threatened 
him with dire punishment if he told what 
he had seen ; — all the other stable folk 
were out on the sands where the puppets 
were. 

The next thing, Pierre lifted Raoul to 
the saddle-bow of his master’s, the Baron 
D’Arcour’s, horse, and the baron mounted 
behind, holding Raoul tightly in his left 
arm while he grasped the bridle in his right 
hand. 

Then Pierre himself mounting the other 
horse and leading the way, off they started, 
cautiously pricking through the ancient 
gateway and out across the gray sands on 

their way to the Norman coast. 

267 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


CHAPTER XX 

THE RACE WITH THE TIDE 

A S they went, Raoul saw in the dis- 
tance the torch still flaring and 
heard the crowd still shouting and 
clapping at the last act of the puppets. 
Had Gilles and his friends missed him? 
He could not tell, but it was more than 
likely that they were all too absorbed in the 
dancer on the little stage to have noticed 
his absence. 

And then, as more and more he realized 
what had happened to him, a great despair 
came over the boy as he dumbly wondered 
what was to be his fate. He did not know 
who it was that held him captive, nor why, 

but he felt instinctively that it was this man 
268 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

from whom his mother and Count Robert 
had tried to save him. As again he won- 
dered what it was the man meant to do to 
him, his blood chilled and, despite his 
anger and his brave effort not to give 
way, he could not help two large tears 
filling his eyes and rolling down his 
cheeks. 

They rode slowly; the baron letting Dar- 
rell, his horse, follow Pierre, who was cau- 
tiously searching out the path as it wound 
among the dangerous quicksands. 

Baron D’Arcour, as he held Raoul with 
one arm, though he did not trouble himself 
to think much about what the lad was suf- 
fering, yet he now and then looked curi- 
ously at his captive; but at first the dark- 
ness prevented him from seeing him 
clearly. Then presently the scud of 

clouds passed from over the moon, and 
269 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

a broad ray of light struck full across 
Raoul’s face. 

The lad kept his eyes fixed angrily in 
front of him, not once looking at the baron 
who held him; but the latter bent over and 
looked at Raoul. He started slightly when 
he saw the fine manly face of the child; 
and then, as all at once he noticed the red 
scar running across Raoul’s cheek (for the 
mark made by the cut of the baron’s whip 
that day on the sands had not yet quite gone 
away), a feeling of vague uneasiness crept 
over him. He realized that he had seen the 
lad’s face before, — but where? Then in 
a moment it came to his memory that this 
was the boy who had caught his bridle and 
saved him from the quicksands, — and 
whom he had thoughtlessly struck with his 
whip! 

Now Baron D’Arcour, bad as he was, was 
270 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

yet not entirely lost to a sense of shame as 
he remembered his act; and he felt his own 
cheeks grow hot as he looked at the hand- 
some little face in front of him still bearing 
the proof of his cruelty. 

He was silent for some time; and then 
at last he said, “ Raoul, dost thou know who 
I am?” 

Raoul struggled to answer, but the ker- 
chief bound over his lips prevented him; 
seeing which, Baron D’Arcour quickly 
slipped it loose. 

Then the lad said fiercely, “Nay, I do 
not know your name, but I know you are 
the man I pulled away from the quicksands 
and who struck me with a whip!” And 
the baron felt the boy’s body fairly quiver 
with anger as he said it. 

After another pause the baron asked, 

with an odd note in his voice, “ Art thou not 
271 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


very sorry, little one, that thou didst not let 
me sink in the sands that day, seeing how 
hardly I have used thee? ” 

To this Raoul did not at once answer, but 
seemed to be thinking it over. Then, by 
and by, turning, he looked the baron 
squarely in the face and, child though he 
was, all the instincts of his knightly blood 
rose strong within him; “Nay,” he said 
slowly, “ I am not sorry I did not let you 
die in the sands that day, for that would 
have been cowardly.” And here the lad’s 
lip curled with a haughty scorn. “ But,” 
he added quickly, still looking into the 
baron’s face with wide open blazing eyes, 
“ I hate you! You are a coward to steal me 
in this way! And when I am a man I will 
fight you with a sword and I hope I may 
kill you! ” For in those days when people 

felt themselves wronged, the only way they 
272 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

knew to settle the matter was to fight each 
other with swords. 

The Baron D’Arcour had straightened up 
in his saddle as he listened to the boy’s an- 
swer; and as the latter finished, he turned 
pale. 

He did not laugh at the threats of the 
captive child in front of him, because he 
began to feel within him a great, over- 
whelming sense of shame. 

This child, then, had called him a cow- 
ard! Never in his life had anyone dared to 
breathe so insulting a thing to him. His 
ready sword had silenced more than one 
hardy knight for a thousand times less rea- 
son. But this child, helpless though he was 
in his hands, had not feared him but had 
boldly accused him. 

And the curious part of it all was that 

deep down in Baron D’Arcour’s heart, 
273 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

which his wicked life had made blacker 
than it really was in the beginning, there 
woke the shamed conviction that the boy 
was right. 

As he felt Raoul’s warm body within his 
arm and the quick, angry throbbing of the 
lad’s heart, a strange tenderness rose within 
him. 

A bewildering tumult of feelings swept 
over him, such as he had never known in 
all his wild, reckless life. 

A child was not a familiar thing to 
Baron D’Arcour; he had never before held 
one close in his arms, and the better nature 
within him began to awaken at the touch of 
his little prisoner. Until that moment, for 
more than a year his one cherished wish had 
been to capture this child whose life stood 
between himself and fortune. But now that 

he had Raoul wholly in his power, he was 
274 


OR : THE STORY OF RAOUL 

amazed to find that he felt a strange reluc- 
tance to use that power. It was one thing 
to hire ruffianly cut-throats to steal a lad for 
him, but he found it quite another thing 
when he really held the boy in his own 
arms. And the boy had called him a cow- 
ard! 

As the cutting word sank deeper and 
deeper into his heart, more and more clearly 
he began to see the truth of it; to realize 
how cowardly he had treated this child 
whom he should have loved and protected. 

And as the full force of all he had done, 
and, worse still, all he had meant to do to 
the little boy before him, as all this over- 
whelmed him, he bowed his head and began 
to think of things in a way he had never 
thought before. 

Meantime the baron’s horse had lagged 

behind Pierre, and it was only by sheer 
275 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


good fortune and its own instinct that it had 
managed to follow the path and escape step- 
ping into the quicksands. For though 
Pierre had once or twice called back direc- 
tions as to the way, his voice had not reached 
them because of a gusty wind that had 
sprung up; and besides, Baron D’Arcour, 
just as on that day he came to the Mount, 
was too reckless and too much taken up with 
his own thoughts to pay much attention to 
anything. 

Now, had Pierre, and especially the 
baron, known more about the Mount and 
the habits of the sea in that region, they 
would have been riding far more swiftly 
than they were. Indeed, they had been 
much wiser not to have been riding the 
sands at all at that hour. Pierre thought 
he knew a great deal more of the ways of 

the sea than he really did; and though 
276 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

before they started from the Mount he had 
hurriedly asked about the coming of the 
tide, he had misunderstood the answer 
given him, and had supposed there would 
be plenty of time to cross the sands before 
the water swept over them. As he rode on 
now, ahead of the baron, he did not know 
that far away on the dim horizon a crest of 
moving white had begun to show and was 
steadily advancing. 

On they rode, unconscious of danger. 
Three-fourths of the way was passed, and 
the Normandy coast was beginning to loom 
plainer and plainer through the velvety 
shadows, when Pierre happened to turn in 
his saddle and, glancing toward the west, he 
saw the gleam of the long, white line of the 
ocean. 

It was the great September tide, draw- 
ing nearer and nearer; soon to sweep over 
277 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

the sands in a wild fury of swirling 
waters. 

Though Pierre had miscalculated the 
time of its coming, he knew the tide when 
he saw it; and he had heard many tales of 
its incredible swiftness when it made the 
Mount its goal. In an instant he realized 
their danger. Turning his head for but a 
moment with a wild cry of “ Master! Mas- 
ter! Look! The tide! ” he put spurs to his 
horse and fled for dear life, speeding across 
the gray stretch of sand and little caring 
what befell the others. Pierre well knew 
that faster than a galloping horse that wall 
of green water was surging in from the 
sea. 

As the wind was then blowing toward 
him Baron D’Arcour heard, though faintly, 
Pierre’s warning call, and seeing his sudden 

flight he, too, looked around and glimpsed 
278 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the coming flood; and, rousing from his 
reverie, at once he realized its meaning. 

Seizing Raoul tighter in his grasp, he 
dug the spurs deep into Darrell’s flanks and 
with a sudden startled bound the race began. 

On and on they flew, and all the while, 
surging, roaring, hissing, with a resistless 
power the great waves came rolling and 
tumbling in from the deep. Like some wild 
living thing the sea seemed to take a fierce 
joy in the ever growing tumult of its waters. 
On and on they rolled, at madder and mad- 
der pace, swirling over the sands, swallow- 
ing up all the little streams that had twin- 
kled over them, gathering up the masses of 
kelp and the stranded star-fishes and jelly- 
fishes in sweeping eddies of foam, rushing 
over the pathways and beating with thun- 
derous roar against the rocky walls of the 
Mount. 


279 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

Darrell, with a frightened neigh, sniffed 
the air and seemed to understand that the 
race he ran was between life and death. 
Pantingly he galloped over the wet slippery 
sands, the white foam flecking his dilated 
nostrils like the white spume driving in 
from the sea. The terrible sea, that came 
faster and faster, swirling in between the 
riders and the longed for land and already 
beginning to curl in frothy rings over Dar- 
rell’s flying hoofs as he sped terror-stricken 
before it. 

In another instant Baron D’Arcour and 
Raoul, straining their eyes toward the coast, 
now almost won, saw the dark figure of 
Pierre, who was far ahead of them, sud- 
denly swerve, throw up both hands, and 
then sink from sight; drawn down in 
what deadly quicksand, they never knew. 

For at the same time, with a deafening 
280 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

roar, the wall of water that had been pur- 
suing them was upon them. With an al- 
most human cry brave Darrell was swept 
into the flood, and the baron and Raoul 
with him. 

It seemed that the sea itself was helping 
Baron D’Arcour to rid himself of the lad; 
— if it did not drown them both in its mad 
fury of destruction. 

As Raoul, after a helpless struggle with 
the water, slowly sank beneath it, the baron, 
who had been swept some distance from 
him, was making a desperate effort to reach 
the top of a rock that projected a little above 
the water. At last he succeeded, and, 
scrambling up its slippery surface, man- 
aged for a breathing space to find a foot- 
hold, though every moment the tide was 
rising higher. 

This rock was not a great distance 
281 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


from the coast, and the baron, who was 
a good swimmer, burdened though he 
was with his heavy clothes, could prob- 
ably have reached land without great 
trouble. 

But, strangely enough, in that brief mo- 
ment’s rest on the rock, he did not even once 
glance toward the coveted coast. Instead, 
with a look of intense, agonized anxiety, he 
eagerly scanned the deeper water beyond, 
shining silvery bright beneath the moon. 
For a moment nothing showed above that 
gleaming flood, save the drifts of churning 
foam; — then suddenly, white as these, he 
caught sight of the ghastly face of Raoul, 
who, after going down, had again risen to 
the surface. 

That white face seemed to be the one 
thing for which the Baron D’Arcour was 

searching; for instantly plunging again 
282 


OR.: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

into the rushing waters, he swam desper- 
ately toward it. 

Raoul, who by this time had lost con- 
sciousness, did not know that just as he was 
sinking for the last time, a hand seized him 
with a grip of iron, lifting his head above 
the suffocating waters. He did not know 
how fiercely the baron fought with the all- 
powerful sea, battling with it as never in all 
his wildest wars had he battled with living 
enemies ; how desperately, madly, he strug- 
gled against it; how grimly he bore its 
blows and bufferings, sometimes almost 
sinking beneath his nearly lifeless burden, 
now and again flung pitilessly against the 
sharp edge of some hidden rock, but all the 
while with his own body striving to protect 
the lad from harm, and with unconquerable 
purpose fighting to gain the land, — till at 

last, bruised, bleeding, breathless, with 

283 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

straining nerves and muscles exhausted to 
the limit of endurance, with a last supreme 
effort he dragged Raoul from the clutch 
of the tide and stumbled blindly up the tan- 
gled salt grasses of the Norman coast. 

The baron, though on the verge of faint- 
ing from sheer exhaustion, yet by a mighty 
effort of will fought off the numbing swoon ; 
for he had work to do. Raoul was still un- 
conscious and needed his aid. Bending over 
the boy, he rubbed and chafed the cold little 
body; — and suddenly a flush of scarlet 
covered his forehead as he noticed that still 
the lad’s slender wrists were bound together, 
the wet cord cutting cruelly into them. 
With a feverish haste he searched his doub- 
let pockets till he drew out a knife and with 
trembling fingers managed to cut the knot 
and free those helpless hands. And then, 

with white lips, and burning eyes scanning 
284 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

the face before him for the first sign of re- 
turning life, he wildly redoubled his efforts 
to revive the boy. He worked unceasingly, 
— and the baron was not unskilful in his 
knowledge of what to do — till at last he 
brought back warmth to the blood, and 
Raoul’s heart again beat with gathering 
power as he opened his eyes with a vague, 
bewildered look. 

When Baron D’Arcour knew that life 
had returned to the lad, he sank down be- 
side him on the soft, tufted grasses. But it 
was only a few minutes that he allowed 
himself to catch his breath; for the night 
was chill and they were drenched with the 
sea. For his own plight Baron D’Arcour 
did not care a straw; he was used to ex- 
posure; but there was Raoul, and for the 
first time in his life he found himself think- 
ing about the welfare of somebody else. 

285 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

He rose up, and looking about them by 
the waning light of the moon he saw in the 
distance the hut of a peasant farmer, its 
thatched roof looming darkly against the 
sky. Eagerly, too, he scanned the wide 
grassy plain to see if by any chance brave 
Darrell had won his way to the shore. But 
nowhere was he to be seen. Indeed, at that 
very moment poor Darrell, who had made 
an heroic struggle with the flood, was lying 
lifeless beneath it; he had been unable to 
withstand the first shock of the tide that had 
swept him from his feet and flung him into 
the deepest and angriest surge of waters. 
Baron D’Arcour felt a real pang of regret 
as he thought of his lost horse. For he was 
fond of Darrell and though he had been 
none too tender-hearted toward his fel- 
low beings, he was always good to his 
horse. 


286 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

However, there was no time for vain re- 
grets, and so he determined to make the best 
of the plight in which they found them- 
selves. Raoul by this time was half asleep 
from sheer weariness, and scarcely knew 
when the Baron D’Arcour carefully picked 
him up and, clasping him in his arms, made 
his way on foot over the rough fields 
towards the hut. 

When he reached it, he pounded lustily 
till he roused the folk within; and pres- 
ently a blinking peasant face, topped by a 
cotton night-cap, peered out from a crack 
in the door. 

“ Open, and take us in!” commanded 
the baron. “ We have been caught by the 
tide, and want dry clothes and shelter .” 
And with that, feeling in his doublet pocket 
for some coins, he handed them to the peas- 
ant, who then quickly roused up and opened 
287 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


the door wide. He found a tallow candle 
and lighted it; and, though very curious as 
to who his visitors were, he held his tongue; 
for he knew better than to ask questions of 
a nobleman, as he was sure the baron was 
because of his velvet doublet and haughty 
manner; — though it seemed odd to the 
man with the night-cap that the lad his 
noble guest was carrying was dressed in a 
blouse like those of his own little children 
who had been roused from sleep in the great 
bed by the fireplace. 

Indeed, the children and the mother 
looked on, round-eyed and wondering, 
while the father bustled about and found 
dry things for his guests and stirred the fire 
and laid on it a fresh handful of fagots. 
As these blazed up, by their light the baron 
caught sight of a horse stabled in a shed 

which opened from the family living room, 
288 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

and at once he began to bargain for it. He 
wanted something to take Darrell’s place 
until he could get another horse to his 
liking. But as this in the stable was the 
only one the peasant had, he did not wish 
to part with it; though when the baron of- 
fered him a good price for the hire of it for 
a few days, at last he consented to let it go. 
It was only a poor old work horse, but it 
was a great deal better than walking; and 
the baron was glad to strike the bargain as 
he had a journey ahead of him. 

After this matter was settled, the peasant 
led his guests up a ladder to a loft above 
the living room, and there spread a cover- 
lid over some straw on the floor, which was 
the best he could furnish in the way of a 
bed. When the two had exchanged their 
wet clothes for the coarse garments the 

peasant had found for them, the latter took 
289 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

their own things down and placed them by 
the fire, and then he blew out the candle 
and crept back to bed: — and before long 
everyone in the hut was fast asleep. 


290 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 


CHAPTER XXI 

THE RETURN TO CASTLE BELLAIRE 

I T was the third day after the Baron 
D’Arcour and Raoul had taken ref- 
uge in the peasant’s hut; and in the 
castle of Bellaire Lady Alix sat in front of 
her tapestry frame, trying vainly to fix her 
thoughts on the silken embroidery before 
her. Presently the needle dropped from 
her fingers, and her eyes filled with tears, 
as she gazed out of her tower window and 
thought how empty the house seemed and 
how long the days since Raoul had gone 
away. She anxiously wondered, over and 
over, if all was well with the boy; and 
more tears came as she vainly longed for 

some message from him. For, when Lady 
291 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

Alix lived, it was very hard for those who 
loved one another to be separated for long, 
as they seldom had the comfort of receiving 
letters as we do to-day. 

By and by, still thinking of Raoul, she 
arose and went to the window, and, press- 
ing her forehead against the casement, 
looked sadly out in the direction of far- 
away Saint Michael’s Mount. For a little 
while she looked and dreamed; and then 
dropping her eyes from the blue distance 
that she felt sure hid Raoul from her, sud- 
denly she started with surprise as she no- 
ticed a horseman coming into view around 
a bend in the road that wound up to the 
castle gateway. 

As he drew nearer, she was sure that 
though of noble bearing it was not her 
brother Count Robert; and as few other 

knights ever found their way to solitary 
292 



SHE NOTICED A HORSEMAN COMING INTO VIEW AROUND A 
BEND IN THE ROAD.” 






OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

Bellaire, she watched the rider with grow- 
ing interest. She saw, too, that seated in 
front of him in the saddle was a child, a 
little boy, and her heart gave a great leap. 
“ But no,” she said to herself, “ it cannot 
possibly be Raoul, who, I trust, is at this 
moment safely guarded within the walls of 
the Abbey.” 

While she bathed the tears from her eyes 
and made ready to go down and greet her 
visitors, the latter had passed over the 
drawbridge and had already dismounted in 
the castle courtyard. They had just come 
into the great hall when Lady Alix entered, 
and in another moment, with the glad 
cry “Mother!” Raoul sprang into her 
arms. 

After they had hugged and kissed each 
other to their hearts’ content, Lady Alix 

remembered that Raoul was not alone. She 

293 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

looked up with an embarrassed smile, and 
said, “Your pardon, Sir Knight, if I seem 
lacking in courtesy. My little boy has 
taken me by surprise, and I have been very 
lonely.” Then, holding out her hand, she 
asked, “ I would fain know, whom have I 
the honour to greet? ” 

The stranger, who had been standing by 
with bared head, now took her hand almost 
timidly, as, bowing low over it, he said, 
“ Your Ladyship, I am the Baron D’Ar- 
cour.” 

Lady Alix had never until then seen 
the baron; and as she now realized 
that their long-time enemy stood be- 
fore her, she turned very pale and began 
to tremble. 

Seeing this, Baron D’Arcour hastened to 
add, “ I beg you, my lady sister, do not be 

alarmed. ’Tis true, I have given you more 
294 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

cause for fear than friendship; but now I 
swear to you ” (here he spoke very eagerly) 
“ I come on no evil errand, but only to re- 
store this lad to his own.” 

And then, looking her in the eyes, he went 
on manfully, “ I have grievously distressed 
you, Lady Alix, for which I crave your 
gracious pardon.” As he looked anxiously 
at her, Lady Alix on her part was so 
amazed that perhaps she did not realize 
how hard it was for Baron D’Arcour to 
make that speech. Indeed, it was one of 
the very hardest things he had ever done; 
for he was very proud, and in all his life 
before had never asked anyone to forgive 
him for wrongdoing. 

As she inclined her head, still looking at 
him gravely and in a bewildered way, he 
continued, “ I have brought the lad from 

yonder Mount that he may be educated as 
295 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

befits his rank, and not in company with 
fisher-lads. And especially because, — al- 
ways with your Ladyship’s gracious per- 
mission, — I would fain myself teach him 
the use of the sword. Yonder monks are 
fair warriors, but they are not bred to it 
like knights-at-arms.” 

Lady Alix was still more dumbfounded 
to hear the baron make this offer to teach 
Raoul, as everyone knew that his skill with 
the sword was famous. 

The baron, seeing her surprise, turned to 
Raoul and with a curious expression said 
very gravely, “ When he is man grown, he 
wishes to fight me with a sword and hopes 
he may kill me; — and, faith, I deserve it! 
And, on my word, when he is ready to do it, 
the lad shall have fair play! Meantime,” 
he added, again bowing to Lady Alix, 

“ I offer to my lady sister my loyal horn- 
296 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

age and the protection of my own right 
arm.” 

Lady Alix was so moved she scarcely 
knew what to say. But looking earnestly 
into the baron’s face, she saw that whatever 
he might have been in the past, he neverthe- 
less was speaking truth to her. 

So after a brief silence, in which she 
strove to collect herself, slowly and dis- 
tinctly she said to him, “ Baron D’Arcour, 
you have indeed grievously wronged this 
lad here, and, I think, planned more deadly 
hurt to him; but I grant you my pardon in 
so far as earthly forgiveness goes. God 
alone can truly pardon.” And then again 
extending her hand to him, she said, with 
a gracious smile, “ I thank you for your 
homage and offer of fealty and protec- 
tion, and I accept it and trust you, my 
brother.” 


297 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 

And Baron D’Arcour did not betray her 
trust. Never again did he plan the least 
harm to Raoul, but gave to him a warm 
and tender love. 

He came often to Bellaire, and took great 
pains to teach the boy in the practice of the 
sword and also in many other knightly 
things. For ever since that wild night on 
the sands of Saint Michael, when he had 
first held in his arms the lad who had called 
him a coward, he had been as a different 
man. He seemed to have left behind him 
in the great cleansing waters of the sea, all 
his old, wicked self. And in this new life 
he won honour and distinction, and fortune 
besides. 

He and Count Robert of Villharne be- 
came the best of friends also; and through 
the years his loyalty and devotion to Lady 

Alix never wavered. Indeed, more than 
298 


OR: THE STORY OF RAOUL 

once his strong arm and cool judgment 
saved her castle from attack in troublous 
times of war. 

As for Raoul, he gave to his uncle, the 
baron, a great and devoted love. He be- 
came the lad’s hero; and when sometimes 
the baron would playfully remind him of 
how he had said he hated him, and of the 
promised duel when he was grown up, 
Raoul would flush scarlet and, throwing his 
arms around the baron’s neck, would ex- 
claim, “ No, no, I do not hate you! I love 
you! And I will never, never fight you 
with my sword, for I want you to live for- 
ever! ” 

And then the baron would smile whim- 
sically, and patting the boy on the head, 
would say, “ Little braggart, I really believe 
thou thinkest that thy skill surpasses my 

own! Let us have a fencing bout now, so 
299 


THE LITTLE COUNT OF NORMANDY 


I can teach thee a new thrust or two; for 
I have not yet shown thee all, and when 
thou fightest me I would not have thee 
handicapped by lack of knowledge.” 

And then, laughing merrily, they would 
start a fencing match that always ended in 
such a riotously happy romp, that to hear 
their shouts anyone would have supposed 
that it was a pair of boisterous pages play- 
ing together; — and no one would have 
dreamed it possible that the two could ever 
have been the reckless man, intent on 
wicked plans, and the captive child who 
had once upon a time set out together to 
cross the moonlit sands of Saint Michael’s 
Mount. 


THE END. 


300 


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Kit Carson, the noted scout; Lewis and Clarke, the hardy 
explorers; the world-renowned Buffalo Bill, and of many 
other famous scouts, trappers and pioneers. 


BEAUTIFUL JOE’S PARADISE: Or, The 

Island of Brotherly Lo ve . A sequel to ‘ ‘ Beautiful Joe . ” 
By Marshall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe.” 
One vol., library 12mo, cloth, illustrated . . $1.50 

“ This book revives the spirit of ‘ Beautiful Joe ’ capi- 
tally. It is fairly riotous with fun, and is about as unusual 
as anything in the animal book line that has seen the 
light.” — Philadelphia Item. 

’TILDA JANE. By Marshall Saunders. 

One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $1.50 
“ I cannot think of any better book for children than 
this. I commend it unreservedly.” — Cyrus Townsend 
Brady. 

’TILDA JANE’S ORPHANS. A sequel to “ ’Tilda 


Jane.” By Marshall Saunders. 

One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth decorative, $1.50 
’Tilda Jane is the same original, delightful girl, and as 
fond of her animal pets as ever. 

THE STORY OF THE GRAVELE YS. By Mar- 
shall Saunders, author of “ Beautiful Joe’s Para- 
dise,” “ ’Tilda Jane,” etc. 

Library 12mo, cloth decorative. Illustrated by E. B. 

Barry $1.50 

Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and 
triumphs, of a delightful New England family, of whose 
devotion and sturdiness it will do the reader good to hear. 
BORN TO THE BLUE. By Florence Kimball 


Russel. 

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.25 

The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on 
every page of this delightful tale. The boy is the son of a 
captain of U. S. cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the 
days when our regulars earned the gratitude of a nation. 


L. C. PAGE <5r> COMPANY'S 


IN WEST POINT GRAY 

By Florence Kimball Russel. 

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . ' . $1.50 

“ Singularly enough one of the best books of the year 
for boys is written by a woman and deals with life at West 
Point. The presentment of life in the famous military 
academy whence so many heroes have graduated is realistic 
and enjoyable ." — New York Sun. 

THE SANDMAN: HIS FARM STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins. With fifty illustrations by 
Ada Clendenin Williamson. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover . . . . $1.50 

“ An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of 
very small children. It should be one of the most popular 
of the year’s books for reading to small children." — • 
Buffalo Express. 

THE SANDMAN: MORE FARM STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories met with 
such approval that this second book of “ Sandman " tales 
was issued for scores of eager children. Life on the farm, 
and out-of-doors, is portrayed in his inimitable manner. 

THE SANDMAN: HIS SHIP STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins, author of “The Sandman: 
His Farm Stories,” etc. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
“ Children call for these stories over and over again." — 
Chicago Evening Post. 

THE SANDMAN: HIS SEA STORIES 

By William J. Hopkins. 

Large 12mo, decorative cover, fully illustrated $1.50 
Each year adds to the popularity of this unique series 
of stories to be read to the b+tle ones at bed time and at 
other times. 

A — 0 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

By Emilia Elliott. 

12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50 

This is the story ctf a warm-hearted, impulsive and breezy 
girl of the Southwest, who has lived all her life on a big 
ranch. She comes to the far East for a long visit, and her 
experiences “ up North ” are indeed delightful reading. 
Blue Bonnet is sure to win the hearts of all girl readers. 

THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE GIRL 

By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . . $1.50 

A thoroughly enjoyable tale of a little girl and her com- 
rade father, written in a delightful vein of sympathetic 
comprehension of the child’s point of view. 

SWEET NANCY 

The Further Adventures of the Doctor’s Little 
Girl. By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . . $1.50 

In the new book, the author tells how Nancy becomes 
in fact “ the doctor’s assistant,” and continues to shed 
happiness around her. 

NANCY, THE DOCTOR’S LITTLE PART- 
NER 

By Marion Ames Taggart. 

One vol., library 12mo, illustrated . . $1.50 

In Nancy Porter, Miss Taggart has created one of the 
most lovable child characters in recent years. In the 
new story she is the same bright and cheerful little maid. 

ALYS- ALL -ALONE 

By Una Macdonald. 

Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

A delightful, well-written, happy-ending story which 
will gladden the hearts of many a reader. Though dearly 
loved above all else, a little girl, Alys, must be left some- 
what alone. Indeed she feels and calls herself “Alys- All- 
Alone.” The story closes with the little girl happily estab- 
lished in a real home — no longer “ Alys- All-Alone.” 

A — 7 


L. C. PAGE & COMPANY'S 


GABRIEL AND THE HOUR BOOK 

By Evaleen Stein. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and deco- 
rated in colors by Adelaide Everhart . . . $1.00 

Gabriel was a loving, patient, little French lad, who 
assisted the monks in the long ago days, when all the books 
were written and illuminated by hand, in the monasteries. 

A LITTLE SHEPHERD OF PROVENCE 

By Evaleen Stein. 

Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated in colors by 

Diantha Horne Marlowe $1.00 

This is the story of Little lame Jean, a goatherd of 
Provence, and of the “ golden goat ” who is supposed 
to guard a hidden treasure. 

THE STORY OF RAOUL 

By Evaleen Stein. 

Cloth, 12mo, illustrated and decorated in colors $1.25 
This is the story of a lad of noble birth, who, though kid- 
napped by an uncle who had long been an enemy to the 
house of Raoul, succeeds by his very kindness and lovable 
nature in winning the affections of the old man. 

THE CHRISTMAS MAKERS’ CLUB 

By Edith A. Sawyer. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated by Ada C. Williamson $1.50 
One of the best books for girls that has been published 
for a long time. It abounds in merrymaking and the right 
kind of fun, and possesses a gentle humor and pathos 
which will touch the hearts of mothers as well as their 
daughters. 

ELSA’S GIFT HOME 

By Edith A. Sawyer. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated by Florence E. Nos- 

worthy $1.50 

A delightful and sunshiny story which tells more about 
the dainty Elsa Danforth and her girl chums. How genial 
Uncle Ned’s Christmas gift brought joy not only to Elsa 
and the “ Christmas Club,” but to many others, is the 
happy theme for a whole-spirited book for girls. 

A — 8 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND; Or, The Ad- 
ventures of Allan West. By Burton E. Stevenson. 
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 

Mr. Stevenson’s hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is 
given a chance as a section-hand on a big Western rail- 
road, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrilling. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER. By Bur- 
ton E. Stevenson. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . $1.50 

“ A better book for boys has never left an American 
press.” — Springfield Union. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER. By Burton E. 

Stevenson. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

“ Nothing better in the way of a book of adventure for 
boys in which the actualities of life are set forth in a practi- 
cal way could be devised or written.” — Boston Herald. 

CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER. By Winn Standish. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.50 

Jack is a fine example of the all-around American high- 
school boy. 

JACK LO RIMER’S CHAMPIONS; Or, Sport, 
on Land and Lake. By Winn Standish. 

Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . $1.5(f 

“ It is exactly the sort of book to give a boy interested 
in athletics, for it shows him what it means to always 
‘ play fair.’ ” — Chicago Tribune. 

JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS ; Or, Millvale 
High in Camp. By Winn Standish. 

Illustrated $1.50 

Full of just the kind of fun, sports and adventure to 
excite the healthy minded youngster to emulation. 

JACK LORIMER’S SUBSTITUTE; Or, The Act- 
ing Captain of the Team. By Winn Standish. 

Illustrated $1.50 

On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wres- 
tling, tobogganing, but it is more of a school story perhaps 
than any of its predecessors. 

A — 0 


Z. C. PAGE & COMPANY'S 


THE RED FEATHERS. By G. E. T. Roberts. 
Cloth decorative, illustrated . . . . $1.50 

“ The Red Feathers ” tells of the remarkable adventures 
of an Indian boy who lived in the Stone Age, many years 
ago, when the world was young. 

FLYING PLOVER. By G. E. Theodore Roberts. 
Cloth decorative. Illustrated by Charles Livingston 

Bull $1.00 

Squat-By-The-Fire is a very old and wise Indian who 
lives alone with her grandson, “ Flying Plover,’ ’ to whom 
she tells the stories each evening. 

COMRADES OF THE TRAILS. By G. E. 

Theodore Roberts. 

Cloth decorative. Illustrated by Charles Livingston 

Bull $1.50 

The story of a fearless young English lad, Dick Ramsey, 
who, after the death of his father, crosses the seas and 
takes up the life of a hunter in the Canadian forests. 

MARCHING WITH MORGAN. How Donald 

Lovell Became a Soldier of the Revolution. 

By John V. Lane. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated .... $1.50 

This is a splendid boy’s story of the expedition of 
Montgomery and Arnold against Quebec. 

RODNEY, THE RANGER Or, With Daniel 
Morgan on Trail and Battlefield. By John V. 
Lane. 

Cloth decorative, illustrated .... $1.50 

Young Rodney Allison, although but fifteen years of 
age, played a man’s part in the troublous times pre- 
ceding the American Revolution and in the War itself. 

CHINESE PLAYMATES 

By Norman H. Pitman. 

Small cloth 12mo, illustrated . . . $1.00 

A worth-while, happy little story about two little 
Chinese boys, Lo-Lo and Ta-Ta, and the strange fortunes 
that befell them when they wandered from home. 

A— 10 






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